


The Murderess from the Grunewald

by DaughterofPrussia



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Berlin - Freeform, F/M, Germany, Grunewald, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-06-15 19:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 63,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15420054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterofPrussia/pseuds/DaughterofPrussia
Summary: A canon divergent alternative universe in which James Fraser, a successful lawyer and partner of "Fraser, Gowan & Coll." meets Claire Randall in the lawyer's and client's consulting room of the women's detention center in Berlin-Moabit, after her husband Frank Randall, a professor at the famous Humboldt University, was found dead at the foot of the stairs of his villa in Berlin-Grunewald. Based on a true crime story which will be revealed in the concluding section.





	1. Free!

(”Tür” by [dawes28](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Ft%25C3%25BCr-treppe-stufen-eingang-604987%2F&t=ODA0MTBiNjc4NjkwMTBkMWU1ZTU2OWEyYTU2ZjMyZWM5NGNmOTNiZixRdHc4UzViMg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176319986440%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-1-free&m=1))

 

         It was just some minutes after 5pm when Jamie parked his black BMW M5 in the driveway to Claire's house. He got out and took her suitcase out of the trunk. Then he opened the passenger door and held out his right hand to help her get out. Finally, he pressed the car key. The headlights of the car flashed briefly and then the click sound of the door locks could be heard. Jamie gently put his right arm around Claire and led her slowly up the path and up the few steps to the front door. Once there, he reached into his coat pocket, took out the keys and opened it. Claire went ahead. She walked slowly. Her footsteps were more of an uncertain anticipation, as if the house she entered was unknown territory and not the familiar place she had lived in for nearly a year. She looked around and was amazed that in the six months she had spent in prison, obviously nothing had changed. When she entered, she had expected the smell of stale air to meet her. She had expected a layer of dust to accumulate on the furniture and she had expected myriads of cat hair to float through the apartment. But she was disappointed, positively disappointed. The apartment was clean, maybe cleaner than she had left it six months ago. On the floor in the hallway, there was no larger amount of cat hair than she usually found when she came home after a hard day's work. Jamie had parked her suitcase in the hallway and put the front door key in the small wooden bowl that stood on a narrow sideboard. Claire had walked slowly up the steps to the living area. Amazed, she looked around and found that not a single one of her potted plants was gone. There was no dust anywhere and the windows looked like they had been cleaned just days ago. She went to the large glass door that led from the living room to the terrace and into the little garden that had become such a precious hideaway for her. Slowly she pushed the curtain aside and looked out. To her surprise, the lawn looked as it had been mown and the plants in the garden looked healthy too.  

         "Claire?" 

         Jamie had approached her from behind and put his hands gently on her arms. 

         "Please give me your coat. I hang it up." 

         "Thanks, Jamie." 

         She untied the belt and unbuttoned the coat, then he gently helped her take it off. While Jamie was hanging up the coat, Claire suddenly heard small, quick steps on the stairs. Adso, Claire's mostly white-and-gray cat, came running to her with a few big jumps. He sat down right at her feet, looked at her expectantly and meowed heartbreakingly. 

         "Adso! My little darling! How I missed you!" 

         As she spoke, she leaned down and took the cat up into her arms. The animal looked at her, meowed again, then rubbed its head against Claire's shoulder and head. Immediately a loud and pleasantly purr began to fill the room. 

         "Ah, there he is, my fat cat!" Jamie said as he entered the living room. Claire looked at him in surprise. 

         "Come here, old boy! It's time for dinner!" 

Adso suddenly freed himself from Claire's embrace and jumped to the floor. Jamie tapped his right thigh twice with his flat hand, then turned and headed for the kitchen. Amazed, Claire witnessed how Adso immediately obeyed Jamie and followed him into the kitchen. When she heard a drawer open in the kitchen and Jamie searching for something in the cutlery box, she found that she had opened her mouth like a big silent "Oh!" and was still looking in the direction of Jamie and Adso, though both had already disappeared into the kitchen. She took a deep breath, closed her mouth and dropped onto the sofa. Then she heard a can being opened. Obviously, Jamie had searched for the opener. She tried to visualize Jamie emptying the contents of a can of cat food into Adsos pet bowl, and how he snugly and noisily began to eat. Then she heard how the trash can was opened and closed and then the same sounds came from the dishwasher. She heard Jamie wash his hands and shortly afterwards he appeared in the door, asking: 

         "Claire, would you like to have a tea or something else to drink?" 

         "Yes, please. I would like to have a strong Assam tea." 

         Before she could explain to him where the tea or cups were, he had disappeared into the kitchen again. Moments later, Jamie stood in front of her with a tray holding two cups, a pot of tea, and a bowl of Azora biscuits. She loved this light orange biscuits. As far as she could remember, she had never mentioned this to Jamie. How did he know about it? Jamie put a cup in front of her and poured her tea, then put the bowl of biscuits next to the cup and poured himself a cup of tea. Claire carefully picked one of the biscuits out of the bowl, closed her eyes and smelled it. Orange biscuits, the smell of freedom ... Jamie sat down on the sofa of the other side of the little table, watching her attentively. He knew what was going on inside her. Their eyes met as Claire opened her eyes again. Barely audible, she said: 

         "Thank you." 

         Then she bit into the biscuit, closed her eyes again, and tried to absorb every milligram of the wonderful taste. How long had she missed a cookie like this and a decent cup of tea in the six months she had to spent at the women's detention center in Berlin-Moabit.  


**(”Wohnzimmer” by[StockSnap](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fwohnzimmer-haus-innenraum-design-2605530%2F&t=ZDNmNDA2N2U1NjcwZjNjNjkzMzQwMjE0NjI4ZGI3OTlkM2NjYjA3NixRdHc4UzViMg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176319986440%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-1-free&m=1) ) **

         Claire reached for her cup and slowly let the warm drink flow into her mouth. What a pleasure after six months, during which she had received only lukewarm, bitter tea made from grey tea bags. She looked at Jamie as Adso appeared. Obviously well fed and saturated, he strolled slowly out of the kitchen and headed for the sofas in the living room. Claire knew what would come next: Adso would brush her legs a few times, then sit in front of her, waiting until she would take him to her lap. But to her surprise, everything was very different. Jamie flicked his left thumb and middle finger twice briefly and Adso's attention was immediately focused on him. When he tapped his right thigh twice with his flat hand, Adso bridged the short distance with a few quick jumps, sat down on Jamie's lap and looked at him expectantly. A big grin appeared on Jamie's face. He reached into his pocket and took out a little white, round drop of cat milk, which he held out to Adso. The cat cautiously took the biscuit with its mouth and began to chew while Jamie started to scratch Adso's head and ears. The smacking of the cat was now replaced by a quiet languorous purr. Claire could not believe her eyes. Again, Jamie grinned at her.  

         "Bribery. Bribery with cat biscuits! Well, my traitorous cat obeys, of course ... " she said with an ironic undertone in her voice while shaking her head lightly. Jamie, still scratching Adso's head, look down at the cat:  

         "Well done, old boy. But now you really have to go to your mom."  

         He took Adso and carefully set him down on the carpet. Then he gave him a little push. The cat rose and strolled slowly towards Claire, then lay down next to her feet and began with a copious cat wash. Claire looked at Jamie.  

         "You really seem to be in good terms with each other."  

         "We spent a lot of time with each other and ... well, we are both men, we have to stick together." 

         Claire reached for her cup and drank while closing her eyes again. Everything seemed so new, everything seemed to have changed. Everything. In just six months. It seemed to her that she had spent the past six months on a distant planet, and for some unknown reason fate had just thrown her back into her old orbit. Would she find her way in her 'old world'? Was that even 'her old world'? Countless questions invaded her brain, like the arrows of a hostile army. But now was not the time to ask. First of all, she had to arrive, at least here in her ‘own four walls'. Would the man sitting opposite her help her? Would he stand by her? She hoped so. In all the chaos of the past six months, he had been a great calm center of her life. The only calm center. At the moment she had no longing for the world 'out there'. Too hard and biased this 'world' had proven to her. At some point, yes at some point, she would have to meet this other world again. But this meeting had to wait.  

         Claire was about to put her cup down when Adso jumped up without warning, writhing his back and starting to hiss wildly. He almost knocked the cup out of her hands. Only then did Claire notice a mechanical sound that seemed to come from the right side of her sofa. 

         Jamie jumped up and hurried to one of the bookshelves behind the sofa. When he came back, he had a small white remote control in his hand, which he pressed. The whirring noise stopped immediately.  

         "Excuse me, Claire, I installed a vacuum cleaner robot here five months ago, because I did not want to soak up the cat's hair every day ... It always starts its rounds in the evening at this time, when Adso moves above ... I will remove it right away .... " 

         "No, just leave it, that's a good idea, but maybe it should start at another time."  

         Claire laughed with relief. 

         Jamie put the remote on the table and sat down again.  

         "I can show you how it works ..." 

         "Yes, I would like that, but not tonight." 

         "Sure. Are you tired? Do you want to sleep? Should I go?" 

         "No, the tea and biscuits have done me good, but I need to change my clothes and take a bath. Will you give me the suitcase, please?"  

         "Sure."  

         He got up, went into the hall, and immediately returned with the little blue suitcase. 

         “I carry it up for you," Jamie wanted to say, but he only came up to "I carry it ..." as his stomach made a loud growl.  

         "Hunger?" Claire asked.  

         Jamie looked at her sheepishly. 

         "Very hungry!" she stated as his stomach answered in his place.  

         "I've bought fruits, vegetables, chicken and fish, it's all in your fridge." 

         She looked at him in astonishment. What else had this man thought of? 

         "If I understand your stomach correctly, it's probably too late to cook," she pointed out. 

         “We can go to a restaurant," he suggested.  

         "What about ordering something via home service?" 

         "Very good! What would you like to have?"  

         "Oh, for months I've been dreaming of a really good pizza! With a lot of cheese." 

         Jamie smiled, got up and disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned after a few moments,    he held a colorful flyer in his hand. 

         "Here, choose what you like," he said, holding out the flyer to her. 

         "Ristorante Diamanto. Hmhm. That sounds interesting." 

         "A former client of mine. They make excellent food, not just good pizza, you can also order meat, fish or poultry – whatever you want."  

         "No, I'd rather have pizza. Ah, here, number 17. That sounds good - Pizza 'Sicilian shepherd’. Does your Mafiosi friend use real Sicilian shepherds for his pizzas or is this fake?" 

         “Claire! Your black humor ...”  

         “... has not become white while staying at the women's detention center .”

         Jamie sighed.

         "The pizza is covered with feta cheese, black and green olives, fresh green peppers and red peppers, it tastes good." 

         "Then we'll take it!"  

         "Well, so a Pizza 'Sicilian shepherd' for you and an Alsatian Tarte flambee for me," Jamie said and was about to pick up the phone.  

         "No, no! I'm not done yet, Dr. Fraser. I have not eaten properly since months! Please order a Pizza Diavolo and salad as well. A bottle of red wine should be in the kitchen or in the cellar ..." 

         “All right, as you wish.”  

         "I'm going to freshen up and you ...” 

         “I'm hunting of something to eat, like good men have been doing for millennia." 

         He made a serious face and looked around worried.  

         "Wilma, where did I leave my bow and arrow?" 

         "Probably at the entrance of our little Flintstone cave, my dear Fred," she replied with an equally serious expression, then both burst out laughing.  

         "It's good to hear you laughing again, Sassenach," he said, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. 

         "Thanks to you, I have something to laugh about again," she replied quietly and thoughtfully. 

         He gently lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. 

         "I wish to hear you laugh for many years to come, Claire." 

         Before he could kiss her again, she took a step back, grabbed the suitcase and looked at him defiantly. 

         "Then you should not let me starve, but go hunting now." 

         Jamie reached into his pocket, took out his smartphone and started dialing. When Claire reached the top floor, she heard him say: 

         "Fratello Luigi, questo è il tuo affamato fratello Jamie ..."  

         While Jamie’s conversation with the restaurant went on, she shook her head one last time, then entered the bathroom. Here she was surprised in the same way as before. None of her plants had died and nowhere was a grain of dust. The air was fresh and a large glass vase with a bouquet of orange gerberas stood on the small brick ledge next to the bathtub. Slowly she let her fingertips touch the flowers. Then she let water into the bathtub and added some scented bath oil. As the water ran, she went back, picked up the suitcase and headed for her bedroom. Once there, she remained undecided at the door for a moment. What would she expect in this room? She guessed it, but it could all be very different. She had left the room in a kind of chaos. No, that was not right. She had been forced to leave the room in a kind of chaos – on that fatal morning just over six months ago. It was still dark when the police had opened the front door by a locksmith. Masked policemen had invaded her home and stormed into her bedroom as if she had a top position on the global criminal list. They had overwhelmed her in her sleep, dragged her to the floor and handcuffed her. Sleepy as she was, she had tried to defend herself against the men she considered burglars. While doing so and crying for help, a chair and a vase were broken. 

         Claire closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she heard the tap of the bathtub being closed. Before she could turn around, Jamie stood already behind her and put his hands gently on her arms. 

         "Don’t worry, Claire. Open the door and go inside." 

(”Pfingstrosen” by [TerriC](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fpfingstrosen-pfingstrose-blumen-3473156%2F&t=NjE5NWU3MTc4OTM1MzQ3YTIxM2IyYTM3MzVlOTg5N2RiMThlZWE0MCxRdHc4UzViMg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176319986440%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-1-free&m=1) )

         Carefully, she put her hand on the door handle. Then she took all her strength and opened the bedroom door. Her first glance fell on her bed. It was freshly made and tidy. The chair in front of her make-up table, which had broken apart in several places when fighting the police, had obviously been repaired and looked like new. Wondering, she looked at the chair before sliding her hands gently over its back. Also in this room the air was clean and fresh. There was no dust or cat hair anywhere. Suddenly she noticed another smell. She glanced around the room and then saw the large bouquet of red and white peonies standing in a ball vase on the dresser beside her bed. Nothing she saw reminded her of the chaos of that terrible night. 

         Claire felt a stream of tears pouring down her cheeks - and she couldn’t stop it. She turned to Jamie who was still standing behind her and said barely audible: 

         "Thank you. Thank you for everything." 

         He pulled her close and put his arms around her. 

         "It's all right, Claire. You are free. Nobody will be able to hurt you anymore." 

         He stroked her hair, then gently raised her chin and looked at her. 

         "Come on, Wilma, go take a bath. Your Fred was successful. Our dinner will be delivered in 30 minutes." 

         Before she could answer, he kissed her on the forehead and wiped away her tears with a handkerchief he had  pulled out of his jacket. 

         "Do not let me wait too long. I'm hungry like a T-Rex." 

         Then he was gone. 


	2. Dr. med. Claire Beauchamp, client

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a gray and frosty November morning in Berlin, a fire is lit in the heart of James Fraser that neither time nor death can extinguish.

(”Abend” by [tookapic](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fzimmer-sessel-lampe-abend-home-932321%2F&t=YmUwMTIxNDRjMWIzM2E0Mzg5ZDZmYzZkMmE0NDcyMjJjMzA4Y2NiNixHYUNFWTg0MQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176519116935%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-2-dr-med&m=1))

         While Claire enjoyed her first proper bath after six months, Jamie sat on the sofa and stroked Adso, who sat down again on his lap. Together, they waited for the dinner to be delivered. He chuckled as he thought of the little banter with Claire. They would have other things to discuss, heavyweight topics. It was important that these questions be clarified. But not today. Today he wished nothing more than to celebrate her regained freedom with Claire. The months of uncertainty, worry and fear had settled on her like an increasingly heavy, impenetrable fog. From the first day he had met her, he had been able to watch it.   

 **_Six months ago_ **  

        It was a cloudy and slightly frosty Monday morning in November 2020. Jamie was already in the car, heading to the office when the picture of Tessa Lüttgenjohann, his secretary, showed up on the screen of his smartphone. He picked up the call and set the device to "Speaker".   
 

        "Good morning, Tessa!" 

        "Good morning, Mr. Fraser," came the friendly voice of a young woman from the speaker.  

        Tessa Lüttgenjohann was born in the city of Cologne 28 years ago. She had moved to Berlin, where at the age of 24 she was hired by “Fraser, Gowan & Coll.” She was a young, attractive woman with a beautiful face. Her slim, tall figure was crowned by a head of blond curls. Tessa was also intelligent and highly attentive. More than once “Fraser, Gowan & Coll.” had won a case because she had found important information that was overlooked by the court, the prosecutors or even the lawyers. Tessa was known for her good manners and her work ethics. She really  _was_  a hard worker. All in all, she was the best secretary one could wish for. Respected inside and outside of “Fraser, Gowan & Coll.”, she most likely was the best payed secretary in the capital. But in spite of all her qualities, she did not have that special something that could have sparked the fire in Jamie’s heart, which was necessary for him to love a woman.  

        "What's going on, Tessa?" 

        "Where are you?" 

        "On my way to the office, I'll be there in 15 minutes." 

        "Can you park somewhere?" 

        "I'll try, just a moment." 

        Jamie looked around, turned right, and drove into a side street where he parked his car on the right. 

        "So, what 's the matter?" 

        "We received an urgent phone call from the British Embassy earlier this morning, a woman, a ... Dr. Claire Beauchamp, a doctor at the Charité, was arrested at her home in Charlottenburg at 5:30 pm. She is suspected of having killed her husband, a Frank Randall, professor at Humboldt University. She was  taken to the State Criminal Police Office, Division K11 and is to be interrogated there. The British Embassy asks us to provide legal assistance. " 

        "Is she British? The name sounds more French." 

        "She probably has French ancestors, but she has dual citizenship, she has a British and since January 2018 also a German passport." 

        "Can not someone else from our office take care this case?" 

        "Mr Gowan is at the local court at Lichtenberg all day, defending the tennis coach who has evaded millions of taxes. Mr. Hombach is at the local court in Potsdam as legal counsel of one of the victims of the migrant trafficking case. Mr. Vill has an appointment at the local court in Köpenick, extortion in the rocker milieu. Mr. Sturmfels must go to the district court, hearing for detention ... " 

        "O.k., I understand, it sticks to me." 

        "I know, Mr. Fraser, that you do not like to work for the British Embassy ..." 

        "It's alright Tessa, call the police and tell them that I'll be there in 20 minutes. I hope the client is smart enough to keep her mouth shut until then." 

        "I'll do, see you later Mr. Fraser."    
  

        Fifteen minutes later James Fraser steered his BMW M5 to a parking lot in front of the State Criminal Police Office, a modern gray building he hated since he first saw it years ago. He picked up his briefcase, locked the car and hurried up the stairs to the lobby. He took the elevator, which brought him to the department K11. A secretary at the reception desk reported him to the interrogator. Shortly thereafter, a small, fat man with gray hair and a gray beard appeared and introduced himself as 'Chief Inspector Günther Foos'. James Fraser was not a man who judged people by their appearance or an indefinable 'gut feeling'. But with this man, he immediately felt an inner dislike and his over the years acquired knowledge of the human nature urged him to heightened vigilance. 

 

  (”Fenster” by [StockSnap](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Ftisch-stuhl-spiegel-fenster-glas-2576364%2F&t=NTY1M2EwN2QwMzEzYzliYzE4OTU1ZDc2YmQ1M2NkNWVlOTgyZTBiZCxHYUNFWTg0MQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176519116935%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-2-dr-med&m=1))     

    

         He asked for a private interview with his client and was immediately led to the interrogation room where Claire Beauchamp was waiting. When he entered, she stood at the window with her back to the door. She was wearing black jeans and a white pullover. Her head was barely recognizable under the mass of dark curls. The sound of the door had ripped her from her thoughts and she had turned abruptly.    
 

         "My Goodness!" was all James Fraser could think of when he saw her. All the trouble that he had had to take over this case had vanished immediately. Somehow, he was even glad that none of the other lawyers had been able to take over this case. 

        "Good morning, Mrs. Beauchamp, I am James Fraser of 'Fraser, Gowan and colleagues'. The British Embassy has asked me to provide you with legal assistance. You can choose another lawyer if you wish, but there will probably be a review of the detention order today ... " 

        As he reached out to greet her, he uttered his salutation without really paying attention to the words. All his attention was focused solely on the face of the young woman standing opposite him. Her grace and charisma captivated him more and more and from moment to moment as his brain ran its own program. He would do everything in his power to save this woman from the prison. Whether she was guilty or not. Any way and every means would be right for him. And when she was free again, he would court her. He would win her over. He would make her his wife and give her the life and happiness she deserved. He would make her the mother of his children - she and no one else. His father was right: The day he would look into the face of the love of his life, he would know it was her. Today he had looked into that face. It was her. She was the missing part of his soul. He know that he know that he know that he know. 

        "Mr. Fraser? Mr. Fraser!" 

        The words came slowly and mistily to his ears. 

        "Um, yes?" 

        "Could I ... get my hand back?" 

        She smiled and he felt an unreal lightness. He smiled back to her. 

        "My hand, Mr. Fraser?" 

        "Hand? Which hand?" He thought. Then he looked down at his hand, which still held Claire's hand. 

        "Oh, I'm sorry, I ... I was a little bit in thought." 

        Reluctantly, he released her hand. 

        "We should sit down and discuss your case, Mrs. Beauchamp." 

        She nodded and sat down at the table in the middle of the room where a number of chairs stood. Claire had not missed the lawyer's reaction, neither was she surprised. It had happened often that men looked admiringly at her. But what surprised her was her own reaction. She could not remember how many handsome, attractive men she had encountered in her life. But one thing she knew: none of these men had left such an immediate and deep impression as this giant, who had suddenly stepped through the door of this gray room and introduced himself as  _her lawyer_.  With his read curly hair, the red designer stubble, his big hands and his sharp nose, he looked like a Viking who had escaped a time long forgotten. When he looked into her eyes, she felt as if the sun was rising - after a night of unending darkness. She was startled to discover how quickly and intensely she absorbed the small details of his face: the birthmark on the left cheek, the perfectly curved wings of his nose, the vein that ran vertically over his forehead to the nasal root. The urge to touch his face was almost irresistible. And those eyes! She could have looked endlessly into those blue eyes. But then she felt her right hand and noticed that he was still shaking it. 

        Jamie opened his briefcase and took out some papers. One of these he presented to Claire.   

        "This is a power of attorney, please enter your full name and sign below, only then I can defend you." 

        Claire's eyes fell on the letterhead: "Dr. James A.M.M. Fraser - Specialist Lawyer for Criminal Law." Then she filled out the form, signed it and gave it back to him. 

        "Dr. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, born October 20th, 1988 in Banbury / Oxfordshire, Great Britain, living in Berlin, Candestraße 17" he read in a low voice. Then he put the paper in his briefcase and took out a pink document. 

        "This, Mrs. Beauchamp, is your arrest warrant. You were arrested because you are accused of having killed your husband, Franklin Wolverton Randall, on March 3rd, 2019, at you joint villa in Berlin-Grunewald, Köbelstraße 5. The following motives for murder are given: your husband's marital infidelity and your hatred resulting from this, the desire to gain the assets of your husband as well as his life insurance. It states, that the main characteristics for murder - perfidiousness, avarice and cruelty - have been fulfilled." 

        Jamie paused for a moment. Then he looked directly at her. 

        "Does this accusation correspond to the truth?" 

        "No! I said it last March, I did not kill my husband. All the charges are constructed. I have nothing to do with Frank's death. I found him injured at the foot of the stairs and immediately called the ambulance. I, ... I am a doctor, Mr. Fraser! it is my vocation to help people, to heal them, not to kill them!" 

        She looked at him desperately and her expression made him believe that she was telling the truth. 

        “We can’t do much today. I will now call the chiefsuperintendent and tell him that you will not testify. That is your right. You have the 'privilege to refuse to give evidence'. Then you will be brought before a custodial judge. I will accompany you. The custodial judge will once again read the arrest warrant to you and ask you if you want to make a statement. You will answer 'no'. Please answer only questions about your personal data – name, age, place of birth, address, occupation. Nothing more! Do not do answer any questions about the case. Do you understand that?" 

        "Yes." 

        Claire nodded. 

        "The judge will then confirm the detention and fill out a detention request. Then you will be taken to a detention center by the police. I think they will take you to the Women's Detention Center in Berlin-Moabit. I'll visit you there as soon as I can. We have to prepare your trial. Maybe the police or the public prosecutor's office will asks if you do not want to make a statement, maybe you will be granted any kind of relief or you are promised that a statement will speed up the trial. If that happens, do not tell them anything and just refer everyone directly to me. Maybe that some fellow prisoner is trying to interrogate you. Prisoners often question other prisoners and then sell their information to the prosecutor's office to shorten their term or to get any benefits. Don't get involved in such a conversation.  _Do you promise me that?_ " 

        "Yes. Yes, I do." 

        "Well, before we go now, a few more questions: Should I inform someone about your imprisonment, maybe relatives?" 

        "No, there is nobody there." 

        "Really nobody?" 

        "No. My parents died in a car accident when I was five years old, I had no siblings, and from then on I was placed under the supervision of my only uncle, Quentin Lambert Beauchamp. He was an archaeologist and a historian. The last years of his life he worked at Oxford University. There I met my former husband, Frank. He was also a historian. After my uncle died we moved to Boston for a few years, and six years ago he followed a call to Berlin, where he worked at the Humboldt-University. His parents are dead too and he also had no siblings, but there is a cousin named Alex. He lives in London and came here for the memorial service. Alex later prepared the funeral. He came to Berlin and together we brought Frank's urn to Oxford. The funeral took place there. But I have no close contact to Alex." 

        "So there is no one to inform or for whom I should apply for a visit request? No friends?." 

        “Oh, of course, there's Mrs. Fritz. She's my neighbor, and she has a key to my house as well. So please let her know that she feeds my cat, Adso. And then please inform Dr. Joseph Abernathy. He's a cardiac surgeon at the Charité. He and his wife Gail are my best friends. After Frank's death he gave me a job in his department and I'm sure he'll be worried about me." 

        Jamie, who had written down everything in a little black notebook, nodded. 

        "Okay, I'll do that when we get past the review of the detention order. Any questions? " 

        "Not at the moment - except, how do I pay you?" 

        "Don't worry about that for now, we'll settle that later, are you ready?" 

        "Yes." 

        "Good, then let’s go." 

        Clair got up, but then had to stop and hold onto the table for a moment. Jamie jumped up and hurried over to prevent her from falling. She looked exhausted and he feared she might collapse. 

        "Do you need a doctor, Mrs. Beauchamp?" 

        "No, it's okay, thank you." 

        He nevertheless held her for a moment longer, looked at her and said: 

        "I know that might not be comforting to you now, but I promise you that we will do anything to prove your innocence." 

        "Thank you, Dr. Fraser, I'm grateful you took my case." 

 

(JVA Berlin-Moabit by G.Elser [CC BY 3.0; [https://creativecommons.org](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org&t=NjBmYjRiZjEzYzhhYjM4MjhlMjZkMDAxMDQ3YzBiNmU0NDNmNzA4MCxHYUNFWTg0MQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176519116935%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-2-dr-med&m=1)  / licenses / by / 3.0)], via  [Wikimedia Commons](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3AJVA_Moabit_-_panoramio.jpg&t=YTNiZWY4NWRlZjkxYzFkN2YyNmU2Zjc0ODhjMjRiODkwODM0YzJhZCxHYUNFWTg0MQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176519116935%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-2-dr-med&m=1))

 

        The review of the detention order took place as Jamie had expected it. The police handcuffed Claire and then drove her with a prisoner transport to the Moabit district court. Jamie followed in his car. In court they were already expected. The custodial judge, a young guy with black curly hair and glasses, read the arrest warrant and questioned Claire. She answered all questions about her personal data, but otherwise refused to say anything more. "Excellent," Jamie thought, "she fully understood what to do." He had no doubts about Claire's intelligence, but too often he had seen how clients in front of a judge forgot all the advice he had given them. As he had expected, the judge ordered further pre-trial detention. The reason given was danger of flight. Claire had to hand over her two passports and then the judge issued a transfer request. Jamie could talk to Claire for a moment private, then she was put back in the transport vehicle, which took her to the prison. 

        It was nearly noon when Jamie was back in his car. He paused for a moment before starting the car. He took a deep breath, folded his hands and closed his eyes. Then he spoke a short prayer in Gaelic, which he had learned from his mother. The thought of knowing that wonderful, delicate woman behind the thick walls of the prison almost drove him out of his mind. A few minutes later, he threaded his car into the traffic flow of the German capital. Some time later, when he parked his car in front of Claire's house, he dialed Tessa Lüttgenjohann's number. 

        "Fraser, Gowan & Coll. You're talking to Mrs. Lüttgenjohann." 

        "Hello Tessa, it's me." 

        "Hello Mr. Fraser, what can I do for you?" 

        "Please try to get the number and address of a Dr. Joseph Abernathy. He works as a cardiac surgeon at the Charité, and if they appeal to privacy, leave my mobile number and tell him to call me as soon as possible." 

        "Anything else?" 

        "Yes, prepare a file named 'Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp' and ..." 

´       "Oh, does that mean we have the mandate?" 

        "Yes, please also inform the British Embassy that Mrs. Beauchamp is our client from today on." 

        "I'll do that, and to which lawyer will you assign the case?" 

        "No one, I’ll take care of her case, personally." 

        Tessa Lüttgenjohann was silent in surprise. 

        "Tessa?" 

        "Yes, Mr. Fraser?" 

        "Put the file on my desk, I'll need it tomorrow morning." 

        "As you wish, Mr. Fraser." 

        "Good. Thank you!" 

        Moments later, Jamie drove the car into the driveway to Claire's house. He got out, locked the car and walked slowly to the house on the left. Already at the entrance to the property he saw the large wrought-iron sign with the words "Fam. Fritz" at the wall of the house. He went to the door and rang the bell. A young woman with short blond hair opened. He introduced himself as a lawyer to Dr. Claire Beauchamp and asked to speak to Mrs. Fritz. The young woman explained that Ms. Fritz, her grandmother, had been hospitalized that morning because of a broken leg. When asked who was going to take care of Mrs. Beauchamp's cat, the young woman turned to a key board, took out a key-chain with a large silver 'C' hanging from it, and handed it to Jamie, saying: "You'll probably have to do that by yourself, Dr. Fraser." 


	3. Unknown Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire discover some unknown connections.

(”Tür” by [dawes28](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Ft%25C3%25BCr-treppe-stufen-eingang-604987%2F&t=ODA0MTBiNjc4NjkwMTBkMWU1ZTU2OWEyYTU2ZjMyZWM5NGNmOTNiZixRdHc4UzViMg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176319986440%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-1-free&m=1)) 

  
         Claire enjoyed her first proper bath in six months. What a luxury! She could have spent hours in the warm, fragrant water. She enjoyed the soothing, oily film on her skin. The prison only had communal showers and soap. The water was hard and calcareous. Her skin had suffered, but she hoped that she would recover soon. Claire pulled off the drain plug of the tub, got up and dried herself with a big white terry cotton towel. She enjoyed the feel of the soft fibers on her skin, happy that the harsh unsightly towels she had to use in prison had finally become a thing of the past. She creamed her body from head to toe and got dressed. Then she opened the window to let out the water vapor. Finally, she looked around the room once more. She had never imagined she would be so grateful for a hot bath. She switched off the light and left the room.

         Even before Claire reached the stairs, she heard someone ring the front door. “That must be the pizza service,” she thought. But what happened next hit her quite unexpectedly. 

         When she reached the last step of the stairs, she saw three young men carrying large green-gray polystyrene boxes into her living room. The men were dressed in black pants and white jackets. Their white shirts were closed with black flies and their black shoes were so polished that the light from the ceiling lamps was reflected in them. One of the men put an expensive white tablecloth across the table that stood between the sofas. Another man put silver platters on the table on which he then placed two precious porcelain plates. Several types of cutlery and crystal glasses followed. When the second young man was done, he took his box and went out. Now the third young man opened another box and began to put steaming dishes in porcelain bowls and other dishes on the table, which he then covered with silver heat hoods. This was followed by glass bowls with salad and other dishes. The first young man, who had disappeared in the meantime, reappeared and brought in a silver champagne cooler with a bottle of ‘Moet et Chandon Brut Imperial’ in its ice. The champagne cooler was placed at the end of the table. Now the second young man came back with two bottle racks, which contained a white and a red wine. Just as he had placed the two bottle racks on the table, the first young man appeared again, this time with a large silver candlestick, which he set up in the middle of the table. Claire watched everything that was going on in her living room with a growing amazement. Her eyes fell on Adso, who was still sitting on the sofa where Jamie had caressed him minutes earlier. He had assumed a crouched posture and his head followed the events in the living room with irritated and hectic movements. Now the two young men left the house and took the last boxes with them. Jamie was leaning with his back against the kitchen door, watching everything from there with a mischievous joy on his face. Then another of the young men appeared. Was it number 1 or number 2? She did not know. He held a small white Styrofoam box in his hand, handed it to Jamie and whispered something in his ear. Jamie picked up the box, shook the young man’s hand, and disappeared into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Claire saw the light in the hall being extinguished. The young man closed the front door behind him  and a short while later she heard a car leaving the driveway. Then she heard the refrigerator door open and close again.

 

(”Pizza” by [stuartlimedigital](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fpizza-wein-abendessen-1032057%2F&t=ZmVmMDZlZjZjMjk0ZDZjMjUxMGEwYWM2NjE1ZjEwMWZhNjNhOGVhMixJaHE4YUhGMQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176774401935%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-3-unknown&m=1))

 

         Shortly thereafter, Jamie appeared with a box of matches in his hand and began to light the seven candles of the large silver chandelier. Then he dimmed the light in the living room and approached Claire. He bowed slightly, then handed her his right hand and escorted her to the table.

         "I do not want to give a long speech by which only the food gets cold. I just want to tell you how happy I am, Claire, that you’re finally here again. Let’s celebrate your freedom.“

         Now she could not hold back the tears. She hugged him and held him as tight as she could for a moment. Then she looked up at him.

         "Thank you, Jamie, thank you for everything."     

         "No reason to thank me, Sassenach. I love you and everything I do, I do for you.”

         They sat down and took the hoods from the plates.

         "White or red, Claire?“

         "What are you taking?”

         "I would like to have a white …“

         "Then let’s open the bottle of white wine first.”

         After he had filled them, they clinked glasses.

         "To you, Claire, to you!“

         Adso, who had been crouching on the sofa the whole time, now awoke by the smell of food in his nose, to new life. He jumped down from the sofa, snuggled up against Claire and craned his head so he could place it on the table. Jamie, who had followed Adso’s movements, clapped his hands lightly.

        "Adso, you little furry monster, you got a whole can of "Sea fish Royal” just some minutes ago.“

        The furry monster ducked, then lay down next to Claire and began with a copious cat wash. Claire smiled and began to eat. An hour later, Adso had retired to the first floor, Jamie filled their glasses with the last white wine. The pizzas were eaten, as was the salad and in the glass bowls contained only leftovers of side dishes.

         "Your mafiosi friend has done a great job. My stomach is full.”

         "Hopefully not too full!“

         "What do you mean?”

         "Well, there is a little dessert in the refrigerator.“

         Jamie got up and went to the kitchen. Shortly afterwards, he returned with two dessert plates, each with a large piece of tiramisu.  

         "Oh … for that … there is still room, of course.”

         "Really? I can eat yours too, if you … “       

         "No! Bring it here, Fraser!”

          He set the dessert in front of her with a big smile.

(”Tiramisu” by [pastel100](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fdessert-kuchen-tiramisu-3331009%2F&t=Y2I2ZGNhOGFiMzdhODJhMThhYTllY2YxNWU3NmUzYzcwNWZkYzQxOCxJaHE4YUhGMQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176774401935%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-3-unknown&m=1))

 

         As soon as the tiramisu was eaten, Claire gently pushed Adso aside and got up.

         "I have to use the bathroom.“

         Clair reached out and handed Jamie, who was already up, her right hand to help her. When she stood, he said:

         "O.k., I’ll clean up here and then I’ll go.”

         "You want to go? Why?“

         A shadow of fear became visible on her face.

         "Claire, I …”

         "Do you have doubts?“

         Now Jamie could see a slight panic in her eyes.

         "Doubts? What doubts?”

         "Doubts about what you said to me in prison?“

         He took a deep breath.

         "No, Claire. I do not have any doubts. It’s like I told you: I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you at the police headquarters. And since you cried in my arms at the prison, I love you. No, nothing has changed at all and no, I do not doubt our love.

         Jamie pulled her close to her and he could literally see, how she relaxed.  

         "But why don’t you want to stay then?”  

         He breathed deeply again.  

         "Claire, there are two reasons …. For one, I want us to give each other time to get to know each other properly. So far, we only know each other from an extreme situation. I want to give us the chance to see what impact everyday life has on us. And … on the other hand … well, it may seem old-fashioned and maybe even crazy, but I … I only want to sleep with the woman who is my wedded wife.“  

         Jamie looked down at the floor. His head had turned bright red. Inwardly, he expected Claire to laugh out loud now. But nothing like that happened. He felt her putting her tender hands around his head and lifting it gently. She looked him in the eyes and then kissed him with a passion that surprised him. When they parted, she looked at him with a glance full of understanding.  

         "Jamie, I … I did not want to drag you into my bed. I’m just scared to stay alone. After the months in prison … ”  

         He pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead.  

         "I understand. Do not worry, I’ll stay. “  

         "Thank you Jamie. And no, I do not think you’re old-fashioned or crazy. I think you are a loving, kind and very responsible person.”  

         Jamie smiled and Claire saw tears spilling into his eyes. Then he pulled her back to him and kissed her.  

         "Go up, my love. I clear the table and go back to the car. I always have a small emergency case in my trunk, if foreign appointments take longer. I’ll be with you in 20 minutes.“  

        "Thank you. You make me very happy.”  

         She gave him another kiss and then hurried up the stairs.  

         Fifteen minutes later, Clair heard Jamie leave the house and return shortly thereafter. She had already changed and was sitting on the bed in her bedroom with a book in her hand. As he entered, he carried a silver-colored pilot’s case with wheels in one hand, his other hand holding his smartphone to his right ear.  

         "Ned, I have to go now. So you take care of Bismarck. I’ll be home tomorrow morning. Between 10 and 11 am. Thank you, old boy. I’m owe you a favor.“  

         He switched off the smartphone and put the case on the chair in front of Claire’s dressing table.  

         "By now I know who Ned is. But you haven’t told me that you know one of the von Bismarcks!”  

         She looked at Jamie questioningly.  

         "Not only do I know a Bismarck,” he said mischievously, “I would even say that this Mr. Bismarck is my best friend. I’ve moved him for you tonight. But do not worry, you’ll meet him tomorrow.”  

         "So? Well, I’m curious.“

         Claire looked at him with a serious look over the edges of her reading glasses, and at the same time a smile was visible around her lips.  

         "More will not be revealed now. You will meet the Prince tomorrow.”

         Spoke it, Jamie took his toiletry bag and his pajamas and disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, freshly showered, Claire put her book aside.

 

(”Schlafzimmer” by [Pexels](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fbett-tragen-schlafzimmer-home-1284666%2F&t=NjY1MDFkNWM5NmQ5NDFmNzQ4MTQyMTBmMWZjZmY0YjVjZTE2ZjI3NCxJaHE4YUhGMQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176774401935%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-3-unknown&m=1))

 

         "Jamie,“ she said hesitantly, "there is something I have to tell you.”  

         He sat down on the bed next to Claire and put his arm around her.

         "Tell me.“

         Her face became serious and she kneaded her folded hands.

         "I told you that Frank and I did not have children.”

         Jamie’s face darkened at the mention of the name ‘Frank’, but he tried not to show it.

         "Yes and?“

         "Well, it was not like we did not want kids … it’s likely that,” Claire swallowed, then she looked at him with tears in her eyes, “I’m barren. Oh, Jamie, I’m so sorry. You talked so much about your nieces and nephews and I can imagine how much you wish you children … ”

         "Claire, come here.“

         He pulled her close and rested her head against his chest. Then he took a deep breath.

         "Yes, mo chide, I would very much like to have children with you. You are the first woman I was ever able to imagine to start a family with. I’ve never loved and trusted another human being so much that I thought I could do it. But even if you can not have children … ”

         He gently put the fingers of his right hand under her chin and picked it up so he could look into her eyes.

         "My love for you will not be changed by that. Claire, I love you and I want to share my life with you - with or without children.“

         He took two paper towels, which he pulled out of the blue tempo cloths box that stood at the chair beside his side of the bed and dried her tears. When she had calmed down, he asked:

         "Are you even sure? Maybe it was not your fault? ”

         "No, I … I did not dare. I was always afraid of the final result and what might happen next.“

         "What do you mean? What could happen next?”

         "Well, I was afraid of how Frank might react.“

         Jamie pulled her closer and was once again happy that this little English dictator was no longer playing a role in Claire’s life.

         "Claire, whenever you’re ready, you should have yourself examined. And you should know, whatever the result will be, it will change absolutely nothing about my love for you.”

         They were silent for a while, then Jamie said:

         "There is also something that I have to tell you or better to say - show you. Maybe if you see it, you want to think again about a future relationship. Perhaps you don’t want to spend your life with a man like me at all.“

         "Jamie, what are you talking about?”

         "I have to show it to you so you can understand it.“  

         He gently let her slip out of his embrace and got up from the bed. Then he unbuttoned his shirt, turned and bared his back. Claire had seen many terrible injuries in her time as a nurse and later as a doctor, but she had never seen anything like the scar tissue on Jamie’s back. The sight shut her voice. Slowly, she got up and walked toward Jamie, who was rooted to his place, his head down and his eyes closed. Gently, she put her hands on his shoulders, then carefully run them over the scar tissue. With her mouth she followed her hands and covered the web of scars with kisses. She felt Jamie’s tense body tremble slightly under her touch. When she arrived at the last level of scars, she put her hands back on his shoulders and turned him slowly towards her.

         "You’re right, James Fraser, with any other man the sight of this scars would have scared me. But not with you. Tell me, who did this to you and why?”

         Instead of answering, he pulled her close, pressing his face into her right crook and holding her as if he would never let her go again. After a few moments in this posture, she put her left arm around his waist and slowly led him back to his bedside. She turned on the bedside lamp and let him sit down carefully. Then she gave him a kiss and said:

         "Stay here, I’ll be right back.“

         She left the room and returned shortly afterwards with a tray. On the tray was a glass carafe of whiskey and two glasses. Claire set the tray down on her make-up table, filled the glasses with whiskey, and handed one to Jamie. Then she took her own glass and sat down next to him.

         "Come have a drink and then tell me.”

         Jamie took a long sip of the whiskey.

         "It was in my youth. Shortly after my mother died. My dad thought it would be a good idea to get to know my Scottish family better. So I was sent to my uncle’s family and spent a year studying at the Scottish Agricultural College in Edinburgh. At that time, my father still had the hope that we might be able to get back a part of the former property of our family. Besides, I had not decided yet what I wanted to do professionally. At the weekend I regularly went to a pub in the old town with other students. In this pub a group of Edinburgh College students also met at Fridays. They were in the city to complete a five-month ‘Army Career Preparation Course’. Their leader was a man by the name of Jonathan Randall. But he was called ‘Black Jack Randall’.“

         Claire started shaking when Jamie called that name.

         "I can’t tell you what drove this man, except that he was filled with pure evil. One Friday evening, his and our group got into an argument and we won. He probably could not stand it. The following Friday, when I walked back alone through a park to my student apartment, he caught me with a group of three other men. They knocked me unconscious and hung me by my arms between two trees. Then he hit my back with a kind of medieval whip. When I woke up, they were gone. I thought I was going crazy with pain. Early in the morning, I was spotted by a man on his way to work. He cut me off, called the police and an ambulance. I was taken to a hospital, where I was put into an artificial coma. Then they cleaned my wounds and patched me up. It took months before I could get up again.”

         He took another sip of whiskey.

         As he set the glass down on the bedside table, Claire’s pearly white face had changed its color to that of a whitewashed wall.

         "And the men?“ she asked.

         Jamie took a deep breath. Then he said:

         "The police caught them. But they provided each other with an alibi. There was no trial. The police could prove nothing.”

         "And Jonathan Randall?“

         Once again, Jamie grabbed his glass and drank.

         "He’s dead. I left Edinburgh immediately after I was able to move again. Only a few weeks later, a friend sent me an article from ‘The Scotsman’. It stated that Jonathan Randall had been found dead in a side street of the Grassmarket. Someone had killed him, stabbed him to death with numerous knife wounds. Shortly thereafter, the German police came to me and questioned me in the way of international legal assistance for the Scottish police. But on the night, he was murdered, I was with my father at the wedding of Attorney Ben Hombach. The celebration took place in a well-known hotel in Potsdam. Numerous guests could testify that I was there the whole evening. We also stayed there overnight and the video surveillance of the hotel proved that I did not leave my room. I did not blame the police for suspecting me. They never found out who killed him. In their view, I had a crystal-clear motive. But this man has harassed countless people. I have not been the only one. Someone could not stand it anymore and … ”

         "Jamie, you know that …

         "Jonathan Randall was a cousin of your husband?“

         Claire’s shock was written all over her face.

         "Yes, Claire, I knew that shortly after taking over your case.”

         "And you defended me anyway? Although I belong to this family … “

         Jamie put his glass down. Then he turned to her and pulled her close

         "Claire, you never belonged to this family. Your heart and soul are so different. When I realized that your husband was a cousin of Jonathan Randall, I knew I had to defend you. I would have understood completely if you had killed Frank. Even if his personality owned only a fraction of the brutality and malice that his cousin had. And believe me, I would have done anything to save you from jail.”

         Claire did not answer. She put her glass down. Then she took his head in both hands and kissed him deeply. When they parted again, Jamie said:

         "But now we leave the past behind us. I’ve planned a little surprise for you this Whitsun weekend.“

         "So?”

         "Yes, if you don’t mind, we’ll go to Rügen tomorrow. Our office has a small holiday home on the island. We took it from a client who could not afford to pay us otherwise. I booked it for us until Whit Monday. The weather is good, the nature is wonderfully varied and … it is simply an ideal place to relax. So, if you do not plan anything else … “

         "Oh Jamie, I would love to go there. In all the years I live here, I have never been there. But what about … ”

 

(”Katze” by [StockSnap](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fkatze-tier-haustier-bett-blatt-2561563%2F&t=Y2U3MGI1YTQ4MDgxODM3ZTY3NTg5ODIxMWQzOTkwZDhiZGJjYTY4MCxJaHE4YUhGMQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176774401935%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-3-unknown&m=1))

 

         "Adso? We pack him in his travel cage and take him with us. That’s is not a problem. Come let us sleep now. It was an exhausting day.“

         She kissed him again, then turned her back to him. Jamie pulled her close and kissed her neck gently. Twenty minutes later, as Adso squeezed his way through the crack of the bedroom door and jumped onto the foot of the bed, a deep sleep had taken possession of them.

* * *

 

**_Next time, read: Dr. Claire Beauchamp - indicted for murder._ **


	4. Dr. med. Claire Beauchamp - indicted for murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expect a little Adso fluff, some insight into the German Judicial System and two questions that will decide the fate of Claire Beauchamp.

(”Katzenfutter” by [Crepessuzette](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fkatze-essen-tiernahrung-2170494%2F&t=NDhmNThkNDkzMDc4OGE1NTEyMWY2YTA5MDhmNjk3MDJmOGM0Y2YyNSxNWG56Unk2SQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176884207690%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-4-dr-med&m=1))

 

**Six months ago**

         Five minutes after Mrs. Fritz niece had put the key to Claire’s house in Jamie’s hand, he stood at her front door and held the key ring undecided in his hand. What would he expect if he walked through that door? An hour ago he would have been eager to see Claire’s apartment, but he did not like the idea that he was going to become a cat babysitter. There had been cats at his uncle Dougal’s Scottish estate, but they ran around freely and to be honest - he had never cared. Jamie was clearly a ‘dog person’. If he was honest, he had no particular desire to take care of this cat. But it was Claire’s cat. He loved Claire. Claire obviously loved her cat. So he would have to swallow the bitter pill and take care of the animal.

         He took a deep breath. “For Claire’s sake!” Then he unlocked the front door and carefully opened it a little gap. When no cat appeared, he quickly slipped inside. Then he stood in a small white hallway. On the left side stood a narrow sideboard, in which shoes could be stowed. On it stood a wooden bowl with keys. Next to the sideboard was a small, modern, white wardrobe, on which a coat and two jackets hung. Obviously these belonged to Claire. And there were cat hairs on the white-tiled floor. Four steps led from the hallway into a large, bright living room. On the right side there was a window front that lit up the room for many hours a day with sunlight. In front of the windows were two large comfortable sofas opposite. Between them stood an oriental coffee table in dark wood. The size of the table irritated Jamie a little. He had never seen a coffee table that large. On the walls behind the sofas were bookshelves that occupied the entire wall. On the right side of the room, as soon as one entered the living area, was a door. Jamie walked up to it and opened it. The room was dark. He felt along the wall and found a light switch. When the light lit up the room, he saw that it was the kitchen. On the ground stood two silver-colored bowls. In one was still a small amount of water in the other, Jamie could detect traces of cat food. He looked around the kitchen, then began to open the doors of the cupboards. He did not like to search the cabinets in another person’s apartment, but somehow he had to find the cat food. When he opened one of the lower doors, his face lit up.

         "Ah, what do we have here?“

         He examined a number of cans of different colors with interest.   
  
         ’'’Sea Fish Royal’, 'Chicken Royal’, 'Beef Royal’, 'Veggy Royal’. Mmmmph, 'Veggy Royal’!”

         He chuckled softly and shook his head slightly. Then he set the can on the counter beside the sink.   
  
         "So, all I have to do now is find a can opener.“ 

         Jamie opened a few drawers and found what he needed. When he began to empty the contents of a can of 'See Fish Royal’ into the bowl, he suddenly heard the creaking of the kitchen door. When Jamie raised his head, he saw a cat’s head cautiously slide through the crack of the door. 

         "Hi. You have to be Adso. I am Jamie. As long as your mom is in jail, I’ll be your can opener,” Jamie said, reaching for the animal. 

         But Jamie’s greeting was not received as warmly as he had wished. Adso made a crooked back and hissed at him. Then the cat struck him with its right paw. On the backs of Jamie’s right hand, three parallel small bleeding lanes became visible, left by Adso’s claws.  

         “Au! This is not how you treat the person who has just filled your bowl, old boy!”

         Jamie shook his head, picked up the water bowl, and filled it with fresh water. Then he put it next to the other bowl and sat down at one of the two chairs that stood at the small kitchen table. It took a few minutes, but then Adso’s hunger seemed to be stronger than his distrust of the big, alien male being. The cat sat down at the bowl and began to eat, occasionally squinting suspiciously at Jamie. Suddenly Jamie’s smartphone rang. It was an unknown number. He accepted the call and hoped the sound would not scare the cat again. But Adso seemed used to such a sound and did not bother.

         "Fraser?“   
  
         "Hello, Dr. Fraser. My name is Joseph Abernathy. I was told that you wanted to speak to me urgently. ”   
  
         "Yes, thank you, Dr. Abernathy. It’s about Dr. Beauchamp.“   
  
         "Claire? What about her? I’m worried. She didn’t come to work today.”

         "She could not do that, Dr. Abernathy. She was arrested by the police at 5:30 am and is now at the Women’s Detention Center in Moabit. I’m her lawyer. James Fraser of 'Fraser, Gowan & Coll.’ Dr. Beauchamp asked me to inform you and your wife about her currant situation.“ 

         Dr. Abernathy was silent. Then he asked:   
  
         "What are the authorities blaming her for?”   
  
         "She should have killed her husband.“   
  
         "That’s nonsense,” Joe Abernathy replied resignedly.   
  
         "Dr. Abernathy, I have to prepare Dr. Beauchamp’s defense. It would be good if I could meet with you and your wife. If I understand correctly you are Dr. Beauchamp’s best friends and know her well?“

         "Yes, Dr. Fraser, that’s right. We are friends with Claire for many years. Could you come to dinner at 8 pm tomorrow?”   
  
         "Gladly. Your address is?“   
  
         "Sauerbruch Straße 47.”   
  
         "Thank you very much Dr. Abernathy. See you tomorrow.“   
  
         "See you tomorrow, Dr. Fraser.”

         Jamie put the phone in his pocket. Then he looked over at Adso. The cat had eaten everything and started cleaning itself. Jamie reopened the door of the cat food cabinet, reached for a box of dry food and filled the empty bowl with it. Adso hissed again but then remained calm. When Jamie left, he left the kitchen door open. He would come back the next day to feed the cat, and then he would also take a closer look at the apartment.

(JVA Berlin-Moabit - Entrance * Source: G.Elser [CC BY 3.0  ([https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby%2F3.0&t=MmYzYjcyZDFhOTVlMTAzNWQwYzYyZDE0NjM1ODVjNzgzM2Q0NWY0NCxNWG56Unk2SQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176884207690%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-4-dr-med&m=1))], via Wikimedia Commons)

 

**Nine Days Later - First Attorney’s Visit in Prison**

         It was just after 10 am when Jamie was escorted by a law enforcement officer through the corridors of the prison. He hated those endless, barren corridors, the squeaky doors and the sound of the keys. At last you reached the meeting room where Claire was already waiting.

         "Good morning, Dr. Beauchamp. “

         "Good morning, Dr. Fraser. ”

         Claire looked pale, but she gave him a friendly smile. After a (too!) short handshake, Jamie pointed to the table and they sat down. There was a small pile of papers on the table and Jamie guessed that these were documents that had been sent to Claire by the court. From his briefcase he took out two files. The first file was the file Tessa Lüttgenjohann had set up a few days ago. It was the internal file of the law firm. The second file had been send to him by the court the day before. It was the regular ‘Duplo Akte’, a 1:1 copy of the courts file about Claire’s case.

         “Dr. Beauchamp … “   
  
         "Claire, please. I do not need this formal address.”   
  
         "Fine,“ he replied, smiling, "Claire. But only if you call me Jamie.”   
  
         "Sure, Jamie.“

         "First of all, I would like to inform you about what has happened in the last few days. I visited Mrs. Fritz house. Your cat will be cared for. You do not have to worry about that.”

         "Thank you! Please greet Mrs. Fritz, if you see her. And tell her that I pay for the cat food, when this is over.“ 

         "Do not worry, I’ve already settled that. Then I was - excuse me - in your bedroom and packed some clothes for you. The prison allows each prisoner to own a certain number of their own pieces of clothing, but you have to hand these clothes over at the prison’s service station in the first 14 days. I assumed you would be happy if you could wear your own clothes and I hope it does not bother her that I’ve opened your wardrobes.”

         He looked at her questioningly.   
  
         "No,“ she said after some hesitation, "it surprises me, but no.”

         "I tried to pack practical clothes together. Jeans, shirts, sweaters and so on. The clothes should be handed out to you in the next few days. 

         "Thank you.“

         "Then you should know that you now have a prisoner account. On it are currently 250 euros. Another 250 euros will follow monthly, as long as you have to stay here. From this money, you can order things from the jail shopping catalogue and pay for the washing of your personal clothes. If you need more money, just tell me. You are allowed to receive a package three times a year. To do this, you must apply for a package mark at the prison headquarters. You will need to specify who will send this package to you and you will then receive a list of the items this person is allowed to send. Then send the mark and the list of the person from whom you expect the package. At the moment, you are only allowed to make phone calls with the prior approval of the court. That’s because you are a ‘Untersuchungshäftling’, a prisoner awaiting trial. So, if you want to make a phone call, you must ask for a phone allowance and send it to the court chamber, where your case is pending. This is the 17. Strafkammer, Criminal Chamber, of the Landgericht, District Court. When the phone call is approved, you will be told a time when it is allowed to take place. Of course the phone call is monitored. You may receive letters and also write letters, but the letters will automatically go through the control of the court. So when you write letters, do not mention anything about the case or the trial.”   
  
         He said the last sentences very seriously and Claire nodded.

         "Then I’ve talked to Dr. Abernathy and his wife. They greet you warmly. “   
  
         Claire’s face brightened.   
  
         "Will they come and visit me?”   
  
         "I have already applied to the court for a visit certificate for both of them. Maybe it will be a bit difficult because I intend to name Gail and Joe as witnesses in the trial. But if necessary I will play the health card. “   
  
         "Health card?”   
  
         Claire looked at him questioningly.   
  
         "Well, it would certainly be detrimental to your physical and mental health if the only friends and caregivers you have in this country were not allowed to visit you, right? Imagine you become ill and unable to stand the trial? That would certainly not please the presiding judge.“   
  
         On Jamie’s face a big grin became visible.   
  
         "Lawyers! Up to every trick!" 

 

Entrance hall of the regional court of Berlin located in Littenstrasse 12-17 in Berlin-Mitte. * Photo by:  
Ansgar Koreng / CC BY-SA 3.0 (DE), CC BY-SA 3.0 de,  [https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=51211562](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fw%2Findex.php%3Fcurid%3D51211562&t=YmNiMWJkN2FjOGE4ZWEyN2ZlZThjYTc2NDA1N2JmZjE2ZjJjYmFiNyxNWG56Unk2SQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176884207690%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-4-dr-med&m=1)

 

         "Exactly, we do not shy away from any kind of tactic and do everything for our clients. But now we should come to the court procedure. Do you have any questions? " 

         "Lots. But maybe you’ll explain to me how the justice system works in this country. I learned about it a bit in my naturalization course, but … ”   
  
         "Well, there are several types of courts: First the ‘Amtsgericht’, the local court. These courts only handle offenses whose sentences are below four years. All other offenses are heard at the ‘Landgericht’, the District Court. Your case will being heard before the district court and there before the ‘Schwurgerichtskammer’. The ‘Schwurgerichtskammer’ is the great criminal chamber of the district court, which has three professional judges and two lay judges and is responsible for special felonies in the criminal proceedings (eg murder, manslaughter, assassination with fatalities, hostage taking with fatal consequences etc.). In Germany there is no jury in the court, as you know it from America. The persons named 'Schöffen’ are two honorary lay judges. These two persons represent the jury, so to speak. So you will have to face a total of five judges: The presiding judge, called “Vorsitzender”, two assisting judges, called “Beisitzer” and the two lay judges. The High District Court is also responsible for appeals. The last instance is the Federal Court of Justice. There we can appeal the judgment of the district court, if necessary. So you see, even if you get convicted, that does not mean you have to stay convicted … “

         "Suppose they convict me for a murder I did not commit, how many years in prison do I have to expect?”   
  
         Jamie took a deep breath.   
  
         "Don’t worry, Jamie. Be honest.“   
  
         "15 years, but …”   
  
         "But what?“   
  
         Again he breathed deeply. It was cruel and he did not want to say it. Just the thought of it made him shudder internally.   
  
         "Jamie, please!”   
  
         "There is a chance that the court will determine what is called “besondere Schwere der Schuld”, 'severe gravity of guilt’. Then parole is delayed for a non-specific period beyond 15 years.“   
  
         "Does that mean that I have to stay in prison for maybe 20 or more years?”   
  
         Jamie could not answer verbally. Just the thought that Claire, the woman he loved, should suffer such a fate, made him sick. So he just nodded slightly. Joe Abernathy and his wife Gail had asked him the same questions and were similarly shocked. However, in contrast to Claire, Jamie had expressed his concern that the prosecutor who had written the indictment of Claire was pursuing to get a sentence with the ascertainment of ‘severe gravity of guilt’.. When he raised his head again, he saw that her face had returned to the color of a limed wall.   
  
         "Claire,“ he said, trying to put all the confidence he was able in his words, "nothing is lost yet. What’s important is that we now look at the prosecution’s allegations and find out how we can refute them.”   
  
         She nodded. Jamie reached for the ‘Duplo Akte’ and put it between himself and Claire.   
  
         "This is a copy of your court file. It contains, among other things, a so-called 'Lichtbild-Mappe’, a folder, which contains all the photos of the crime scene and of the forensic autopsy. I know, it’s not easy to look at these pictures, but … “   
  
         "Jamie, go on. I know how those pictures look.”   
  
         "O.K., Claire. Here,“ he said, opening a double page of the folder, "you can see Frank’s shaved head with the injuries which you should have caused with a blow poke from the fireplace in your home.”   
  
         The pictures showed the shaven head of the corpse. On it were seen seven lacerations that had severed the scalp. The lacerations had interesting forms. They reminded Jamie of the shape of a sign from the old Nordic rune alphabet. The Runic letter ‘algiz’. It looked like two letter ‘algiz’ were placed on the left side and on the top of the head and another laceration on the right side.

 

Runic letter ’algiz’  by BK (selfmade image using the free Junicode font) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

 

        "What can you tell me about these injuries?“ 

         "Nothing. As a surgeon, I’ve seen countless serious injuries, including head injuries. But I have not seen such injuries yet.”

         Jamie did not wonder about her statement. Only days before, he had dr. Abernathy submitted the pictures with the same question and got a very similar answer.   
  
         "The prosecution claims that you inflicted these injuries on your husband’s head  with a blow poke that his cousin Alex gave to him as a present many years ago.“   
  
         "I know. But if it were that way, why didn’t Frank’s skull have fractures or his brain injuries? If you hit the head of a human being with the tip of a blow poke, there must be deep injuries where the tip hits the skull. Not just lacerations in the skin! Besides, Frank was much stronger than me. Had I really hit him with the blow poke, he could just have turned around and wriggled it out of my hand easily. I might have had a chance to beat him once, but certainly not seven times.”   
  
         Jamie wrote down everything she said.   
  
         "Well, if there is anything that comes to your mind about these wound in the future, please let me know. For today I have only one more question. As you can see from the indictment, the reason for your re-arrest was a witness. Eight months after your husband’s death, a new witness has suddenly appeared, severely straining you. Claire, who in the world is Sandy Miller?“

* * *

 **Thank you for reading.**   ** _Next time, read: Secret Whitsun holidays on Rügen_**


	5. Secret Whitsun holidays on Rügen (1): Meeting Mrs. Jeanne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before starting their secret Witsun Holidays at the island of Rügen, Jamie an Claire make a detour and meet Luigi Diamanto and his wife Jeanne.
> 
> A short note: As some of my readers might remember, that my apartment was flooded nearly three month ago (& I am still in search of a new one). For three month my (new) landlord did nothing to repair the damage, but since Thursday last week everything had to go fast, fast, fast! (My new landlord is a very kind man - in another universe than the one you and I live in.) When I cleared everything I got the news that nothing will be done until the 3rd of September. And even then it’s not sure … All this work prevented me from revising and posting this chapter. I apologize for not being able to comply with my announcement. As a small compensation I will post another chapter tomorrow.

 (“Katze” by   [ayachiyo](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fhaustier-katze-schnurrhaar-brown-3494016%2F&t=ZjAxMzExNzBhYzg1OTczNjBmZWUwNjllMDI4MDIyNDQ5YzlhMTA0NixmNDRpd2lBeQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177391338730%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-5-secret&m=1) ) 

 

**Whitsun weekend 2020, Saturday morning, one day after Claire’s dismissal from prison**

         For a moment, Claire was confused, when she woke up the next morning. The surroundings seemed unknown to her. But then she felt a soft fur at her feet. Finally, a slight purr reached her ears and she suddenly realized that she had to be in her own bedroom. Only seconds later she realized that there was a big warm hand on her waist. Instantly she froze. She turned slowly and carefully. Under another blanket, a fire-red mop of hair peeked out and slowly her memory returned: Jamie. After an opulent Italian meal she had asked him to stay. She had been afraid to be alone in her home after being incarcerated for six months. He had agreed to stay. Under certain conditions. And he had taken her protection very seriously. Obviously.

         "Claire?“ he asked in a whisper.

         "Hmmm.”

         "Claire, are you awake?“

         "Hmmm.”

         Jamie’s head came out from under the blanket, then looked at her.

         "Did I wake you?“

         "No. It’s all right, go to sleep again.”

         "No way, my love.“

         "Why? Today is Saturday! You do not have to work!”

         "Don’t you remember? We want to go to Rügen today.“

         "No but …”

         "No objections, Sassenach. Let’s get out of this city as soon as possible. I’ll take a shower and make breakfast. Pack a bag of clothes for the weekend. Don’t forget to take a pullover and a jacket with you. A pair of warm socks would be good too. It could be cool at the coast, even at this time of the year.“

         Claire let out a deep sigh and looked at him a little annoyed. But then he kissed her and when she were able to breath again, she said, still sleepy:

         "OK. But tomorrow we’ll sleep in.”

         "Tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. Promised!“

         While Jamie showered, Claire had packed a small suitcase with clothes for the weekend. On the way to the bathroom, she heard him handling something in the kitchen and humming some unknown tune. It didn’t sound very musical, but she smiled and was happy that he obviously enjoyed their time together. Twenty minutes later, when she went down the stairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit her nostrils. In the kitchen she was received by a covered breakfast table. In it’s center stood a vase, out of which three large fragrant branches of lilac arose. Jamie, clad in a pair of black jeans and a black shirt, leaned forward over Adso’s bowls, filling one with dry food. Beneath his shirt his arms and back muscles came to light.

 

(”Mohnbrötchen” by  [fotoblend](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fbr%25C3%25B6tchen-herz-messer-mohn-3366284%2F&t=OWE2YzY2ZjJlMGRlMTcyOWE2Y2NiNTYxMGEwYmMxYjNkODY3M2E4MixmNDRpd2lBeQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177391338730%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-5-secret&m=1) )

        Claire remembered her first encounter with Jamie in the lawyer’s and client’s room of the police headquarters. At that time he wore a dark coat and beneath it a muted gray suit, a white shirt and a gray-colored tie. From the breast pocket of his jacket a dark gray handkerchief stood out. Although neither his shirt nor his suit were tightly cut, signs of a muscular body were visible beneath each movement. She already assumed at this first meeting that he regularly exercised. A guess, which he confirmed shortly afterwards. More than his muscular body, however, his impressive face had left his mark on her soul. Seeing his face, exploring it with her eyes and realizing that he was doing the same with her face had triggered sensations in her of which she had not believed she would ever be able to again. But outward beauty could be deceptive. Even Frank had once been a handsome, smart man and had turned out to be a selfish deceiver. What proof did she have, that Jamie would not abuse her trust also? Was there a guarantee in matters of the heart at all? Frank had hurt her in a way that left deep scars on her soul. For her own protection, she had put on - what she thought was - an impenetrable wall around her heart. Somehow, Jamie had been able to penetrate this wall. Was it the way he had courted her since their first meeting? Everything he did for her, did with her, expressed respect, admiration and veneration. She recognized it in his eyes. When she talked about her life and he showed his amazement, when he was full of respect of her achievements or when he laughed at something funny - it was honest. And yet the doubt that was nurtured by the scars of her past gnawed at her heart. Like a fat monster they weighed on her soul. It could not go on like that. That could not be a solid foundation for a relationship, let alone a marriage, as Jamie wanted it. She would have to address it. She would have to address it, though she dreaded it. Better an end with horror, than a horror without end. She would address it. This weekend. And if then everything would come to an end? She had to take that risk.

         Jamie got up and turned around.

         "Hi Sassenach!”

         His face beamed. She approached him, hugged him and kissed him.

         "Coffee! Cooooffee! Or I’ll go to bed right away, Dr. Fraser!“

         "Immediately, Dr. Beauchamp!”

         As he poured her coffee, she gently stroked the lilac blossoms and asked:

         "Is there any room in this house where there are no flowers?“

         "Oh sure, Sassenach. I did not put any in the cellar.”

         Once again she put her arms around his waist and kissed him on his cheek.

         "Thanks, Jamie.“

         He blushed.

         "Oh, come now and have breakfast.”

         Claire enjoyed the breakfast immensely. Was it the big variety of food? Was it the coffee that, unlike the black lye in prison, finally tasted like coffee again? Was it the presence of Jamie? Or all three? She could have waived a varied breakfast and ‘real’ coffee again. But Jamie? If she was honest with herself, no, she simply didn’t want to give him up anymore. Although … this thought scared her.

         "What exactly are you planning for today?“

         Jamie, who had just bitten into an egg-filled poppy seed bun, made only a grunting sound.

         "First chew, then answer,” she said mockingly. Then she began slowly to spoon the muesli he had prepared for her.

         Jamie grabbed his cup and took a big sip of coffee.

         "Well, when we’re done here, I pack up Luigi’s things and the cat …“

         "Then meanwhile I make the bed. My suitcase is ready.”

         “Hmhm.”

         Another sip of coffee ran down Jamie’s throat.

         "Then we drive to my house. My bag is ready.“

         "Will I meet Prince Bismarck then?”

         "That’s what I said and …. I stand by my promises.“

         She did not answer, just gave him a mischievous smile.

         Fifty minutes later everything was ready. The bed was made, the kitchen cleaned. Luigi’s things were piled up in three large laundry baskets in the trunk of the car. Adso had been carted into his travel cage and strapped to the back seat. Beside him stood Claire’s suitcase. Jamie was already in the car when Claire locked the front door.

         After another twenty minutes Jamie parked the car in the parking lot in front of the "Diamanto”. They got out and Jamie opened the trunk. He gave Claire one of the lighter baskets and took another one himself. Shortly after, he rang the doorbell of the restaurant. A young waiter opened.

         "Buongiorno, Dr. Fraser! “

         "Buongiorno, Federico! In the trunk is still a laundry basket. Please get it  and then close the trunk carefully. We have a cat with us. ”

         "Si, Dr. Fraser! “

         "Grazie Federico!”

         Claire was astonished when she saw the restaurant’s dining room. Externally, the restaurant looked quite normal. But the interior was exceptionally luxurious. They had just entered the restaurant when Luigi Diamanto stormed in with outstretched arms. The Italian was small, no taller than 5,2”, but wiry. He wore a well-groomed black mustache. His head showed a balding baldness, around which black, strong hair grew. He wore the same uniform as his waiters. 

 

 (”Restaurant” by  [Mariamichelle](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fvilla-cortine-palace-fr%25C3%25BChst%25C3%25BCcksraum-949544%2F&t=MmE1YjBmNmE5OTY2YzQwNGE2NjRiMmZiMzA5ODAzN2ViZDA4YWI3NCxmNDRpd2lBeQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177391338730%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-5-secret&m=1) )

"Jamie, fratello mio! Benvenuto! Chi la la bella donna al tuo fianco?“  

         Luigi’s voice was melodious, but like any real Italian, he seemed to speak more with his hands than with his mouth.  

         Jamie’s face showed a broad grin. He set his basket down on one of the tables and motioned for Claire to do the same. Then he put his right arm around Claire’s waist and with his left hand he pointed at Luigi.  

         "Claire please meet Luigi Diamanto. Owner of the best Italian restaurant in town.”

         Diamanto blushed, but also beamed.

         "Luigi please meet Dr. Claire Beauchamp.“

         The small wiry man bowed slightly, then offered his hand to Claire.

         "Welcome, Dr. Beauchamp. Jamie has already told a lot about you and I am happy to get to know you in person.”

         "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Diamanto. The food last night was excellent!“  

         Again the Italian shone.  

         "Allow me to introduce you to my wife.”  

         Luigi Diamanto turned and called in the direction of the back rooms:

         "Donna, vieni qui per favore! Abbiamo ospiti! “

         Shortly thereafter, a tall woman appeared. Her blond hair showed white strands and was braided into a chaplet, which ended in a braid. She wore a green linen dress that subtly covered her hips and went well over her knees. Luigi took her hand:  

         "Jeanne, my love! You know Jamie and this,” he pointed to Claire, “is Dr. Claire Beauchamp, his client.”  

         Mrs. Diamanto smiled at Jamie. Then she turned to Claire, smiled and offered her hand.  

         "Welcome! How nice that we finally get to know you personally. We are pleased that your trial had such a good ending.“  

         Before Claire could answer, Luigi intervened again:

         "Jeanne, please offer something to our guest. Meanwhile Jamie and I’ll bring the dishes to the kitchen.”  

         The men disappeared with the baskets in the back part of the restaurant.

         "Coffee?“ Mrs. Diamanto asked.  

         "Thanks, but we just had breakfast and I already had two cups.”  

         "Then maybe water?“  

         "Gladly!”  

         While Mrs. Diamanto went to get the water, Claire’s brain began to work at full speed. The looks Mrs. Diamanto gave Jamie just moments ago? It were obviously not the looks of a kind that was recommended to a married woman for reasons of decency. And how she had looked at her when she had talked about her breakfast with Jamie! Jeanne Diamanto had been friendly to her and yet Claire could not help feeling that she was suddenly thrown into an unwanted competitive situation. Moments later, Mrs. Diamanto came back with a tray.

         "Would you like to sit down, Mrs. Beauchamp?“ She asked, pointing to one of the tables.  

         "Yes, thank you.”  

         They sat down and Jeanne filled two glasses with sparkling San Pellegrino.  

         "Thank you.“  

         They drank and meanwhile Claire decided to move to the attack:

         "Do you know  _Jamie_  for a long time? ”

         "Oh, we know him for a very long. He was still a teenager when we met  _his dad._ “

         Jeanne smiled. Her right hand played with the stalk of her glass. She took a deep breath, then her face became serious.  

         "When Luigi and I got to know each other …  when we fell in love with each other, I … lived in very difficult circumstances. Luigi wanted to do everything … to free me from these circumstances. We were young … and … not very thoughtful.”

         Jeanne took another sip from her glass.

         "Luigi did something, by mistake, that made the whole situation even worse. He was arrested and sent to prison. Through a friend we came in contact with Brian Fraser. The public prosecutor wanted to bring Luigi behind bars for many years. Dr. Fraser managed for him to be mildly punished. He was sentenced to four years and six months and was released on probation after three years. Besides, Dr. Fraser helped him and me find a job … we … we owe him a lot.“

         "So you have been clients of Jamie’s father?”

“Yes, until his death. After that, Jamie took over our mandate. Of course, there are no more criminal cases. Luigi and I have become good citizens,” she smiled, “but every once in a while there are legal questions about the restaurant … ”

         "I understand.“

         Claire smiled back and took a sip from her glass. At that moment Luigi and Jamie appeared and in their tow three waiters. The latter carried two green Styrofoam boxes and a blue cooling box.  

         "Claire,” Jamie said gently, “are you ready?”

         The women got up.

         "Mrs. Diamanto.“

         Jamie bowed slightly.

         "Dr. Fraser.”

         The change in Mrs. Diamanto’s behavior did not escape Claire.

         Jamie grabbed Claire’s hand and pulled her close. Then he kissed her gently on the cheek.  

         "And now we’re finally taking a few days off.“  

         "May one ask where you are going?” Luigi asked.  

         "No, fratello mio. Questo è un segreto. “

         Jamie grinned, then pulled Clair behind him to the car. Jeanne and Lugi Diamanto stopped at the door and waved to them. They had been driving for a few minutes when Claire asked:

         "What’s in the boxes the waiters put in the trunk?”

         "Food for our weekend.“

         "Four boxes?”

         "Let me surprise you, Claire. You will not be disappointed.“  

         Moments later, Jamie turned the car into a path more like a forest track than a road.  

         "Where are we driving to?”

         "To my house. Didn’t I say that?”

         "You live in the forest?“

         "Not only in the forest, also by a lake.”

         "Oh!“

         Claire let out a nearly not audible exclamation of astonishment as a gate appeared in front of them that Jamie opened with a remote control.  

         “Welcome to Fraser’s mansion!”

* * *

 

_**Thank you for reading. Next time, read: Claire's story (1)** _


	6. Claire’s Story (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Claire is incarcerated at the Women's Detention Center, Jamie visits her to prepare her defense. When he asks her about a witness by the name of Sandy Miller, Jamie is completely surprised by her reaction. To get a better insight into the person sitting before him, he asks Claire to tell her story.
> 
> (Note: This is a very long chapter. But I had the impression that I had to give Claire space to explain her situation.)

The building of the police headquarters, Berlin, Germany * Picture by A. Savin (Wikimedia Commons WikiPhotoSpace) [FAL or CC BY-SA 3.0 ([https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0&t=MTBlNTI0MTIwY2ZlZWYyYThmNmE3NGRjY2Y2ZjVlZjMzMmQwYjViMixHRE9sZEkzTw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177427305940%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-6-claires&m=1))], from Wikimedia Commons

 

**Six months ago -  First Attorney’s Visit in Prison (Part 2)**

         Jamie had been prepared for a lot, but that his simple question about the witness named Sandy Miller caused her such an emotional eruption surprised him completely. He was glad that there were no other furniture in the room, because he had no doubt that Claire would have reduced it to kindling.  

         "Claire,“ he said when she had calmed down a bit, "why don’t you tell me your  _whole_  story? There is a personal sheet in your file and some CV details, but I always like it better to hear the story first-hand.”

         Claire took a deep breath and concentrated for a moment.

         "When and where I was born, you already know. When I was five, my parents died in a car accident. I was with a friend’s house that day, waiting for my parents to come in the evening and pick me up. But they did not come and so it was decided that I should stay overnight with my friend’s family. The next day, late in the evening, my uncle Quentin Lambert Beauchamp came to pick me up. He was an archaeologist and historian. Uncle Lamb told me that my parents had died and that I would live with him from now on. First he tried to enroll me in a boarding school, because he was about to start a new excavation period in the Middle East. But I refused to go to this boarding school. I could not bear to be separated from the only relative I had left. I didn’t even have siblings. So my uncle took me with him. Over the next twelve years, we traveled almost the whole globe. With the help of the study material of the British School Board, he educated me every evening after work. I took the annual exams when we came home to England for visits. Together we grew older and when my uncle was offered a chair in archaeology at Oxford, he decided to return to England. I was seventeen and enrolled in the Nursing School. Two years later, I met Frank Randall. He was a younger colleague of my uncle. Frank was fourteen years older than me, smart and didn’t look bad. It wasn’t that I fell madly in love with him. At least not from my current perspective. I was rather impressed. Impressed that a man like Frank had an interest in a young girl like me. Surely I felt flattered too. Some time later, when I saw some of my friends from Nursing School fall in love and were courted by their future husbands, I realized that there was a big difference between me and them. I noticed that there was a strong contrast between the relationship they had with their fiances or husbands and the relationship that Frank and I had. But I hoped it would only be a matter of time and that our relationship would become also … so romantically. Today I know that the relationships of my friends were more real, free and loving. But at that time I was not able to name the difference exactly. My friends and their fiances or husbands behaved like  _partners_. From the beginning, it was different with Frank and me. He was always the “Mr. Professor” and I, well, I was nothing more but his ‘pretty female  _appendage_ ’. Right from the start, he attached great importance to me dressing in  _a decent manner_ , as he said. Even before our wedding he told me again and again that I would become the wife of a distinguished professor. My social appearance  _had to be adapted_  to his position. Yes, that were his words. At that time I told myself that this would certainly change once we got married. But this dream never came true. We got married shortly after I graduated from the nursing school. I was twenty years old.“

 

Entrance of the Mordkommission (homicide division) Berlin *  
Picture by PolizeiBerlin [CC BY-SA 4.0  ( [https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F4.0&t=N2E5Y2IxOTE2ZDBmOTY2MDhhNjJmN2EyZDM5YzljNTJjMjYyODI3MixHRE9sZEkzTw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177427305940%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-6-claires&m=1))], from Wikimedia Commons

 

         Claire paused for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and continued:

         "Today I am convinced that he had chosen me because I was young and therefore malleable in his eyes. I was a useful tool helping to reach his goals. I don’t know if he ever really loved me, even if he said that now and then. I doubt it. What I know for sure is that he loved the fact that I was young and looked reasonably good. He loved showing me to his colleagues, at University receptions, or at conferences abroad. Over the years, I felt more and more like an accessory than as a partner. His social obligations always had priority over everything else. When I wanted to practice my job, he talked to me for weeks. Again and again he accused me of putting him in a bad light as a professor. What kind of message would I send  _to society_? The wife of Professor Randall has to work! As if he was unable to provide for his family! He never understood that my work is not just a profession like any other to me. It is my vocation. It’s part of my … life, part of myself. Frank never had an interest in getting to know me, the person I am.”

         "But you studied medicine after all?“

         "Yes, but only by a ruse and … I had to pay a … heavy price for it.”  

         Claire’s whole face darkened. She kneaded her folded hands and looked at the tabletop.  

         "Do you need a break Claire?“

         "No, it’s okay.”

         She took another deep breath and continued:

         "I wanted nothing more than to study medicine. The nursing school had given me a good foundation. But I knew that I could do more. But I also knew that Frank wouldn’t like it at all. Only a few weeks after our wedding, uncle Lamb died. Shortly thereafter, Frank received the invitation to go to Harvard. So we moved to Boston. Secretly, I applied for a medical degree and was accepted. Frank had to travel abroad for several weeks as part of a research assignment. Usually, professors have to complete such tasks during the semester-free period. But Frank had already taken over this obligation before the university had offered him the job and so they made an exception for him. Actually, I should have come along, but I pretended to be ill. So he traveled alone. His departure coincided with the start of the semester and I was able to start my studies unnoticed by him. The ‘big bang’ came when he returned. Not missing much and he would have slapped me. At the last moment he stopped. He accused me of deceiving and cheating on him. In front of the whole faculty I made a fool of him. It was all about one thing - his reputation! I only answered him that I would not have done it if he had treated me like a grown woman. That evening, I moved out of our shared bedroom and stayed overnight in the guest room.“

         "Excuse me if I ask, but this question could also come up in the process. How would you describe your … marital life?”

         Jamie blushed to the tips of his ears.

         "You want to know if we still had sex?“

         "No, Dr. Beauchamp, Claire, I don’t want to know,” Jamie replied and no, he did not want to know any details from Claire’s and Frank’s bedroom, “but … the prosecutor can ask these questions or, if your deceased husband’s relatives become co-plaintiffs in the trial, their lawyer can make a big deal out of this question. We should be prepared for it.”

         Claire stared at the table’s Formica plate for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and looked at Jamie.

         "At first our … marital life was … ok, regular and … well, I would say. But unlike Frank, I did not have any … comparability …“

         "W-what does that mean?”

         "Well, Frank had relationships with other women before we met. I … I had some acquaintances with guys. But they were not relationships, let alone sexual ones. It never was more than a little smooch. How could it be otherwise? I always had my uncle Lamb in tow.“

         She smiled.

         "H-how long did … you stay in the guest room?”  

         "Oh, only a few weeks. Some influential person in Frank’s faculty had heard that I had started studying medicine and congratulated him. I only learned that much, much later - and only by accident. So when Frank noticed that my studies were not an obstacle to his career, but could even be of useful, well, he even apologized to me. As I said, I did not know anything about the background at the time and thought that he would actually regret what he did. I forgave him and hoped that our lives would change.“

         "And? Did you life change?”

         "In a way - yes. Through my studies we saw each other even less. Of course we had less opportunity to argue. We had some kind of ‘unspoken bargain’, that is, we both set out not to waste those times by arguing. “

         "What happened next?”

         "After four years, I got my MD degree. At this time, Frank received the invitation from the Humboldt University in Berlin.“

 

Humboldt University Berlin, Main Building, Unter den Linden *  
Picture by Beek100 [CC BY-SA 3.0  ( [https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0&t=MTBlNTI0MTIwY2ZlZWYyYThmNmE3NGRjY2Y2ZjVlZjMzMmQwYjViMixHRE9sZEkzTw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177427305940%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-6-claires&m=1) ) or GFDL  
( [http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.gnu.org%2Fcopyleft%2Ffdl.html&t=NjE2NzgxNjE2NDcxODU1NjRmZjA1NmVmMDQ1YTA4Mzg5MjA1ZDE3ZSxHRE9sZEkzTw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177427305940%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-6-claires&m=1))], from Wikimedia Commons

 

 "And how did he react to that?”

         "Very enthusiastic. You must know that Frank had a strong aversion to everything German.“

         Jamie’s eyes widened.

         "For reason’s sake! Why did he accept a call to a German university?”

         "Oh, he didn’t see it as an award. He saw it as a call for help. Obviously no one in Germany was as good as he was, so they had to call him.“

         The irony in Claire’s voice was unmistakable.  

          _"Franky Longstocking. I make the world as I like it … ,”_  Jamie thought, but he said nothing, just nodded to encourage Claire to continue.

         "You must know, his family lost a lot of its members in World War II. They were killed in 'The Blitz’ 1940/1941. I absolutely understand that this can deeply hurt and influence a person. But we were both born long after the war and today - almost eighty years after the war – one has to understand that the world has changed. That we are no longer live in a state of war and that the younger generations from our nations can build a new … a  better world together. I mentioned the new dome cross of the Frauenkirche in Dresden. It is a wonderful gesture of reconciliation by the British people. The artist blacksmith Alan Smith, whose father was one of the bomber pilots over Dresden, worked on it for half a year. I also mentioned the Coventry’s Cross of Nails that was donated to the Frauenkirche and the sculpture “Chorus of the Survivors”, which is a gift from the Frauenkirche to the cathedral in Coventry. All these signs of forgiveness, all these manifestations of the conviction that we should never forget the past, but that we are able to build a peaceful future … together.“  

         She took a deep breath and shook her head slightly.

         "For Frank, such a view wasn’t possible. He was always in a kind of competitive state, a kind of comparison mode. And he always had to be better than everybody else. I don’t know where that came from, but the suffering of his family during WWII couldn’t have been the only root of his behavior. I didn’t realize it until we were married. He was always under a kind of tension to prove himself. Even when we were all alone. Everything had to be perfect.”  

         She turned her gaze again to the table’s gray Formica tabletop. Her voice was filled with sadness, when she spoke again.  

         "I quickly realized that I could never live up to his expectations and eventually … I just resigned and gave up.“

         Now pain and sadness became visible in her eyes. Jamie wanted to get up, hug her and tell her, _'It’s not worth mourning for this cold-hearted guy, it’s not worth mourning for the lost years.’_ He wanted nothing more than to kiss her. And every one of his kisses ought to be a vow that he would get her out of prison and give her the life and happiness she deserved. If he had finally gotten her out of this prison, if he had won her over, then he would do anything to wipe out any memory of Frank in her life. He would make sure that she would forget what this narcissist had done to her. He would make her forget, that Frank Randall ever played a roll in her life.

         "Jamie?”

         "Um, yes? Excuse me.“

         He quickly wrote a few words in his notebook. Then he asked:

         "So you went to Berlin. Why did not you part with him?”

         Claire kneaded her folded hands.

         "Well, for one thing, because I took my marriage vows seriously.“

         "But if I remember correctly, it says in the indictment that your husband had already cheated on you with other women at that time.”

         "Yes that’s true. I knew Frank had an affair in Boston. I didn’t know who it was. I had guesses. He came home from the office later every day and pretended to have to 'work’ more often even on weekends. But one day the proof of it was delivered to me free house. I wanted to bring one of his jackets to the dry-cleaners and therefore cleared out the pockets. It was then, I discovered a piece of paper with a clear message in one of the inner pockets. Instead of a signature, there was a kiss made with lipstick under it. It was a colleague. Even on the evening of the celebration on the occasion of my graduation, he met this woman. He had probably made a mistake about the time. I wanted to go to a restaurant with some friends after a small champagne reception at our house. Suddenly the bell rang and I was facing his blonde mistress. He welcomed her – in the presence of all my guests! And then they left the house and drove away.  I had to celebrate with my friends alone. It was such a tremendous humiliation! It was only later that I learned that this woman was not the first one with whom he cheated on me.“

         Again, Jamie had to be very disciplined so as not to get up and hug Claire. He took a deep breath. Then he rested his chin on his folded hands. At that moment, he was grateful that Frank Randall was already dead. He would not have known what he would have done to him if he had met him alive.

         "And yet you stayed with him …”

         "As I said, I took my marriage vows seriously. In my opinion, the fact that one partner breaks his vows does not justify the other partner to do the same. This is nothing but childish revenge. I would never condescend to that level.“

         Deep inside, Jamie knew she was telling the truth and at the same time it was not the whole truth. He knew that, too.

         "Were there other reasons?” He asked carefully.

         Claire, her eyes lowered to the tabletop, quarreled for a moment.

         "Yes,“ she said softly.

         Jamie waited a moment, then said, also in a lowered voice:

         "Claire, everything you tell me falls under my oath of clients secrets. No one outside this room will ever know about it if you don’t wish and give me permission to do so. I am your lawyer. I’m on your side.”

         Claire hesitated for a moment. Then she said:

         "Feelings of guilt.“

         "Guilt? What kind of guilt, Claire?”

         "Frank wanted to have children … Starting his own family - along with his career - was one of his highest priorities … He was obsessed with tracing back his own ancestral lineage as far as possible … and he was obsessed with taking that line forward into the future. I’m not saying that he wouldn’t make a good father … I … I’ve watched him a few times with children … at the faculty parties … and at other occasions. He was good with children. I’m not thinking about babies right now … He had a gift for explaining complicated things in an easy-to-understand way. Just as children need it. It was also obvious that he enjoyed sharing his knowledge. Of course, not his professorial knowledge, but rather everyday things. He took pleasure in seeing that a child had understood and was able to put into practice what he was trying to convey. I never heard one of his university lectures, but I think it was similar there. He used to tell when a student had understood him correctly … and then it was not pride, but joy that became visible in his eyes. He also was able of keeping or calming a baby … It was … it was a very strange mixture. I would have had no trouble seeing him as a good father, but at the same time he was getting harder, more demanding … even hateful towards me.“

         She looked at her hands and began to knead them again. Small rivulets of tears ran down her cheeks.

         "Jekyll and Hyde,” Jamie sighed.

         "What?“

         "Not important. But I have not quite understood why you felt guilty?”

         He handed her a handkerchief. She dried her tears and blew her nose. Then she continued:

         "As I said, he desperately wanted kids and … and … we didn’t get any. The study was exhausting and as I said, we spent much less time together. When I fell into bed in the evening, Frank often slept already. And even if … I didn’t want to have a baby while I was studying. I … took a … contraceptive. Frank was getting more and more angry and then I heard the first rumors … about other women. I … I blamed myself. If I had not insisted on my studies …. “

         "Claire, please! It was your right … ”

         "Please, Jamie.“

         They were silent for a moment. More questions burned on his tongue, but he wanted to give her a moment to calm down. But to his surprise she soon spoke again:

         "I can imagine you wonder why I stayed with this man after all. As I said, the end of my studies coincided with his appointment to Berlin and I … it created new hope in me. I thought if we had to move, if we find ourselves in a different country, a different culture, maybe we would have a chance to start all over again. We would leave Boston and the university behind us and with it his colleagues and of course his affairs. When we moved to Berlin, I actually thought that my hope would come true. His new job and its associated prestige gave him a kind of new lease on life. We … we also had a thorough discussion about our marriage and we agreed that we finally wanted to start the family he desired so much. So I didn’t look for a new job in Berlin. I tried to make the marriage work. I wanted to prepare everything for the baby. There was a lot to do. The house had to be set up … ”

         "A house in the prestigious district of Grunewald …“

* * *

_**Thank you for reading. Next time, read: Secret Whitsun holidays on Rügen (2)** _


	7. Secret Whitsun holidays on Rügen (2): Prince Bismarck and the secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way to the island of Rügen, jamie and Claire make a last detour to jamie's house. There Claire meets Prince Bismarck and get's a first hand insight into Jamie's life.

“Villa Kogge” Berlin *  
Picture by SPQP [CC BY-SA 3.0  ([https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0&t=ZjQ1NmZhOWFlYTFiYTMwNmM1ZDFmNDE0NzEwMjdhZDMwNjNiMTliMixhU01saTlYcA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177580264275%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-7-secret&m=1))],  
via Wikimedia Commons

 

 

 

         "Jamie! What’s  _this_?“

         "My house.”

         "That’s not a house! That’s a,“ Claire swallowed the swear word, "castle!”

         Jamie laughed.

         "Well, it’s not  _that big_.“  

         He had driven up the driveway, then turned left around the circular flower bed that separated the driveway from the house and stopped just in front of the entrance.

         With each meter that they had come closer, more details had become visible. Before their eyes appeared a large, rectangular building with three floors. An eight-step stone staircase led to a plateau, from which one could enter the house through a high and heavy oak door. Implied Corinthian columns, held in a light brown color, lined the front door. The door and the windows of the first floor were rounded at the top. The windows of the other two floors reflected the rectangular shape of the house. The conclusion of the third floor was a gable triangle. Inside of it was a coat of arms held by two lions. Below the roof a frieze of flowers and tendrils went around the whole house. Like the columns, the frieze was held in a light brown color – a clear contrast to the rest of the house, which was painted in white.

         Before Jamie got out and opened Claire’s door, she was standing in front of the house, staring at it with wonder.  

         "A classic example of classicism,” she said mischievously.

         Jamie took her hand and led her up the steps to the front door.

         "Now we have to be  _cautious_. Please step beside the door.“

         Claire looked at him, puzzled.

         "Why do we have to be  _cautious_  when we enter  _your own house_?”

         "My friend Prince Bismarck is something ... well, let's say - spontaneously - and I do not want him to run you over accidentally."

         "Jamie ...?"

         He did not answer her questions, but placed her behind one of the large flower tubs that stood to the right and left of the door. Then he took his keychain out of his jacket and carefully opened the front door.

         Before they knew it, a small black ball of fur, no larger (and probably no thicker) as Claire's forearm,  raced out of the door. The 'Tour de Force' of this little black Something was accompanied by a barrage of barks, wuffs and other indefinable noises. Then Claire suddenly realized why Jamie had put her in safe distance. Obviously, the little black creature had lost control of his bladder while rejoicing over the reunion with its master. Several wet spots on the flagstones testified to this.

         "Enough Bismarck!" Jamie said emphasis and after a few more jumps of joy the dog stopped and sat down. Then he looked up expectantly. Jamie stroked the head of the little dog several times, talking calmly to him, then he grabbed its neck.

         "Come on, Claire."

         Jamie carried the dog into the house and Claire followed him. They entered a square entrance hall about the size of Claire's entire living room. Jamie disappeared into a room on the right side of the front door. She followed him and saw that it was a small bathroom for guests. On the wall to the left of this room was a framed quote in Gothic script:  _"Nothing will turn a man's home into a castle more quickly and more effectively than a dachshund. - Queen Victoria"_ Claire read it, rolled her eyes and smiled. Then she looked at Jamie.

         "My little friend, Prince Bismarck, is not quite clean yet ... especially when he is in his joyful welcome mode ...."

         He took a moistened washcloth and cleaned the animal. Then he wrapped it in a towel. When he returned to the hall, Claire saw that the dog Jamie was holding was a small black short-haired dachshund. The animal looked at her with big brown eyes.

         "Bismarck, that's Claire. Be polite!"

         "Claire, that's my friend Prince Bismarck!"

         She smiled and shook her head.

         "May I?"

         "Of course! He does not bite, he still has baby teeth. "

         "How old is he?"

         "Four months. Usually I do not leave him alone overnight, but ... I'll take him with me to the office. He stays with my secretary when I have to go to court ..."

 

(”Dackel” by [congerdesign](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fdackel-welpe-jungtier-hund-fell-2975162%2F&t=ZmEzMzJiMjdkYTMwOGE1ZjExMTk1NmJiYjlhZTFkZGRhMTQ5NjA3MSxhU01saTlYcA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177580264275%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-7-secret&m=1))

 

         Claire gently stroked Bismarck’s head and before she knew it, he began to lick her hand.

         "That’s fine, old boy. Give the lady a hand kiss. ”

         After some more petting Jamie put the animal on the floor.

         "Ready for a little tour of the house?“

         "Gladly.”

         He took her hand and led her through a double door separating the hall from the rest of the living area. Through a corridor they came to other rooms.  
          
         "Right here is the library.“

         Jamie opened a large oak door and led Claire into the room. Three sides of the room had shelves of dark wood in which she saw books of all sizes and age. In the middle of the room were two black leather sofas opposite. In the middle stood a large coffee table, on which a glass ball vase was placed. Fresh lilac branches were sticking out of it. Their scent was clearly perceptible in the whole room. A stack of magazines and some current dailies could also be found on the table. On the fourth wall she saw a large window front, from which one could see part of the garden. A desk, which Claire assumed was from the time of Biedermeier, stood in front of the windows. Two chairs, one in front of and one behind the desk came from the same era. Not far from the desk, but closer to the window, stood a wooden pillar. On the top of the plate stood a white-and-gold porcelain pot that harbored a large green fern. A not inconsiderable number of different cacti were lined up on the window sills. Behind the desk stood, a bit offset, a Biedermeier cabinet.  Its upper half was glazed. Behind it, glasses and bottles became visible and Claire guessed that Jamie was using this cabinet as a bar. Then she felt his hand lightly on her back.

         "Do you like it?”

         "Very much.“

         "Come, I’ll show you the rest.”

         He led her through the hallway.

         "The living- and dining room,“ Jamie said as he opened the next door. A large room was displayed in front of Claire. A long dining table with numerous chairs stood on its right side. On the wall beyond stood several sideboards, over which hung several paintings showing various persons and a ship in a stormy sea. On the right side of the room, they came to an arrangement of leather sofas and leather armchairs placed between another window front and a large fireplace. Claire tried to estimate the size of the room, but she forgot it because there was so much to see. A door dividing the window front caught Claire’s attention.

         "Where is  _this_  door leading?” she asked softly.

         "Into the winter garden.“

         Again she felt his hand lightly on her back as he slowly led her forward.

         Claire’s eyes widened once more. The winter garden turned out to be a miniature version of the dining and living room. There was a smaller dining table with six chairs, and four large leather chairs in front of a fireplace. Numerous flowers - orchids of various kinds, small palm trees, orange and citrus trees and other green plants, stood on the windowsills or in clay and porcelain containers between the seating arrangements. Another door on the left led to a large garden.

         "Jamie …”

         "Do you like it?“

         "It is … amazing!”

         In Claire’s voice there was astonishment, but also exhaustion. She would need days, if not weeks, to get to know this house, and she had seen only a few rooms. Slowly he pulled her close and kissed her gently on her forehead.

         "Come on, there is more to see.“

         When she opened her eyes again and looked into his bright face, she thought for a moment that he resembled a teenager who was about to share a big find with a friend. She had experienced so many facets of him - the serious, educated and purposeful lawyer. The loving and caring friend. The forward-thinking strategist. The formidable protector. But this site she especially loved. And she wondered how many - or rather how few - people knew this side of him. The answer to that came only a few minutes later. Slowly they had gone back into the hallway. Bismarck, sniffing at this or that piece of furniture and occasionally making a little sound, always in tow. Jamie, his arm still around her waist, opened another door.  

         "The kitchen.”

         The room they entered was clearly different from any room of the house she had seen until now. The kitchen was a bright and friendly room with all the modern equipment one could think of. Just to the left  side of the door stood a plaited dog basket with a red checkered cushion, in front of it a feeding and a water bowl. Above the basket hung a framed picture that showed a kind of cartoon drawing. It showed a brown dachshund in the costume of a dragon and the lettering:  _“Dachshunds are dragons in disguise”_.  

         "Beware the dragon,“ Jamie whispered.

         "Oh yeah, sure,” she whispered back, as the little black dragon suddenly squeezed between her feet to his water bowl and started to drink. Once again she glanced around the room. On the right side of the room was a white bench that surrounded a large table on three sides. Claire paused for a moment. Then she looked questioningly at Jamie.

         "What is? Something missing?“

         She hesitated for a moment.

         "You told me so much about your family. Where are they?”

         Jamie swallowed.

         "They …  they don’t live here.“

         Although he answered quickly, Claire didn’t miss the sadness in his voice.

         When he saw Claire’s questioning look, he continued:

         "I’ll explain it to you later. When we are on the island … and … and have more time. Is that okay for you?”

         "I’m sorry if I …“  

         "No, Claire. It’s okay that you asked. I … I want to tell you. But as I said … when we have more time.”

         She nodded.

         "Ready for the second floor?“

         "Yes. Lead on.”   

 

  “Villa Kogge - Berlin - Oberlicht” *  
Picture by Elmar Nolte [CC BY-SA 4.0  ( [https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F4.0&t=YWZiMGE4YmIzZDYyYjExMmExYmJlODkxZmM4YjAyMThjODY4MDRkMCxhU01saTlYcA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177580264275%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-7-secret&m=1))],  
from Wikimedia Commons

 

         Jamie led them back down the corridor to the hall, from where a staircase led to the upper floors. The stairs were wide enough for two people and so Jamie put his arm around Claire’s waist again and they walked up next to each other, followed by Prince Bismarck right behind them. Arriving on the first floor, Jamie led her past several smaller rooms.

         "These are rooms that I don’t use right now. Only when I have guests.“

         He pointed to the furniture covered with large sheets.

         "On the third floor there are a few other small rooms. I use them as storerooms and for supplies.”

         They went back the whole way and stopped in front of a double door. Jamie opened one of the doors and motioned for her to enter.

         "This is my work and living room.“

         The room was almost as big as the living room below, but without the dining area. It was dominated by a large, desk obliquely placed to the window front. Behind it there stood a modern leather armchair that matched the dark color of the desk. Under the desk she saw a plaited dog basket with a dark red pillow. Claire went to the window front. From it she could see not only in the garden, but over a small forest also the Havel. Carefully she ran her fingers over the few plants that stood on the window sill: another large fern, a blooming violet, and an orchid with a panicle of red blossoms. Then she turned around. To the right of the door there was a large fireplace, in front of it a small and a larger leather sofa, as well as two or three small side tables. To the right and left of the fireplace hung various paintings. One showed a couple in noble clothes. Claire suspected that it showed Jamie’s parents. Another picture showed a large, gray mansion with several floors and a tall tower next to it. Both buildings were embedded in a green hilly landscape. The wall opposite the desk was filled with bookshelves that reached to the ceiling. When Claire turned around again, she saw that Jamie had sat down in the desk chair. Bismarck had made himself comfortable in the dog basket at his feet.

         "You two spend a lot of time together up here, right?”

         It was more a statement than a question.

         "Yes, a lot of time.“

         "I understand that well. It is really cozy. I can imagine that you can work or relax here with joy.”

         "That’s true. Especially in winter. “

         "And where does the last door on this floor lead?”

         "Only to a bathroom.“

         "To a bathroom? Then … you have your bedchamber on the third floor? ”

         Jamie grinned.

         "No. As I said, there are only storage rooms. “

         Claire looked perplexed. But he just smiled and stayed silent. Then he got up, pulled her close and kissed her.

         "Can you keep a secret?”

         "Sure.“

         She said the word with all conviction she was capable of. But at the same time, she was not so sure that she would be able to keep her promise. What kind of secret would he reveal to her? What hidden side of him would she now get to know now? Would it be a positive or a bad surprise?  

         "Good, then come on.”

         He led her to the middle of the shelf and put his right hand against one side of one of the drawers. A click sound was heard and suddenly the right side of the shelf came off the wall. The secret door opened to a bedroom that Claire would have expected in an early 18th-century castle, but not in a villa of today’s Berlin. Carefully, she stepped over the threshold and marveled at the world that offered itself to her. In the middle of the room, which dominant color was a dark blue, stood a large four-poster bed. Claire estimated its age to be at least two hundred years, if not more. To the right and left of it were small side tables of the same color and with the same carvings as the pillars of the bed. In front of the bed was a large chest with iron fittings. On the left side of the room stood a massive wardrobe. When she turned around, she saw that even this room had a fireplace. Next to the fireplace stood a small table with a mirror. Behind it was the only window of the room. Two armchairs in front of the fireplace completed the furnishing of it. Carefully, Claire slid her right hand over the blue wallpaper and the silver leaves woven into it. Then she turned to Jamie.

         "It … it’s beautiful,“ she whispered.

         Jamie, who had approached her, gently put his arms around her and looked at her.  

         "Over the generations, parts of this house have been renovated and altered over and over again. But not this room. Since my great-grandfather built this house, it has always been the bedroom of the couple that continued our line. Apart from my family, you are the only person I have allowed to enter this room and I wish nothing more than to carry you across this threshold as my wife … one day.”  

         She looked at him. Then she turned her face away, looked down, and was silent.  

         "Claire, what is it?“

         "Are you sure, Jamie?”

         "Yes of course! Why do you ask?“

         "What about  _Jeanne Luigi_?”

         "What is with her?“

         She saw in his eyes that he was genuinely surprised. This calmed and disturbed her at the same time.  

         "Didn’t you see how she  _looked_  at you? I thought she would devour you alive.”

         "She is a married woman!“

         "I know. But you know the saying: That’s a reason – not an obstacle.”

        “Claire, for me that’s  _a reason_  and  _a hindrance_  and  _an absolute taboo!_  She is the wife of a client!”  

        “She looked at you like …”

         "I don’t care. She doesn’t mean anything to me. Absolutely nothing. The only woman who means something, everything, the only woman with whom I want to share my life stands in front of me!“

         Before she could say anything, he kissed her with an intensity of which she didn’t know if it was fed by passion or rage – or both. As they parted, she looked at him for a moment, quiet and thoughtful. Then she said:

         “Please, forgive me. It’s none of my business anyway.”

         "Isn’t it?“

         "Is it?”

         "Yes it is. And you don’t have to apologize for asking. I’m glad you did it.“

         He pulled her close. Then he whispered:

         "We are … not ready to tell each other …  _all that is to tell_. That’s fine. We will endure this time. Our relationship will grow and so will our trust. I wish to share everything with you. But until we are ready, everything we tell each other should be true. Can you agree?”

         "Yes. Yes, I agree.“

         He smiled and she saw, how his whole body relaxed.

         "Thank you, Claire. And now I’ll tell you another secret.”

         He went to the wardrobe and reached with one hand to its top. As if guided by an invisible hand, the cabinet moved to the left with a rolling noise. Behind it a door became visible.

         "This one leads to the bathroom …“

 

* * *

 

_**Thank you for reading. Next time, read: Claire's story (2)** _


	8. Claire's Story (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last part of Claire's story, in which she shares her hopes, experiences and dissapointments while living with Frank at their villa at the Grunewald colony.

 

“Der Reichstag” - Seat of the German Parliament *   
Picture by Jürgen Matern [CC BY-SA 3.0  ([https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0&t=NWFmZGNlNDEyZTVmYzBlODYyZWY5NDdmZjUzMGVmZjQyNTQxZWMzYSxVaXZuMDltRQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177671948600%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-8-claires&m=1))],   
via Wikimedia Commons

 

**Six months ago - First Attorney’s Visit in Prison (Part 3)**

 

         “So your husband had bought a house in Grunewald ..." 

         "Yes, Frank was very proud that he had managed to acquire a house in this prosperous district. The 'best district' of Berlin, as he emphasized again and again. Of course he knew the history of this place. When we were still in Boston he had only told me that he had acquired a large house in a good district of Berlin for our future family. Honestly, I didn’t care that much. I had lived in so many places on this earth and under different circumstances with my uncle Lambert ... The only important thing for me was that we had a good place to live and see our children grow up in. On the flight to Berlin did he tell me the history of this place." 

         "Otto Prince von Bismarck, the first chancellor of the German Empire, himself made sure that a large part of the forest Grunewald was sold by the Prussian State to the Kurfürstendamm Society, a banking consortium, in 1880. The aim of the company was to build a more elaborate residential district based on the model of the very successful villa colonies in Alsen and Lichterfelde, thus creating the later 'millionaire colony Grunewald'. Whoever lived there then, had made it. That's how it is still today. Several states have their embassies there and also maintain residences for their ambassadors. Great Britain and Ireland for example ... " 

         He smiled. 

         "I know. Frank told me that on the flight from Boston to Berlin. And, of course, celebrities lived and live there too - Ferdinand Sauerbruch, Lyonel Feininger, Hildegard Knef, Isadora Duncan, Max Plank, Judith and Michael Kerr. " 

         "Did he also tell you that Heinrich Himmler lived there?" 

         Claire turned white. 

         "No." 

 _"I knew it,"_  Jamie thought, "on can’t be proud of that." To Clair he said: 

         "Well, it does not matter. Please continue." 

         "As I said, the house we moved into was one of the so-called 'smaller villas'. Nevertheless, it was huge in my opinion. It had three floors. On the ground floor, next to Frank's library and his study, there were several large rooms. And of course the kitchen with its own large pantry. We only used these rooms when guests came. On the second floor was our bedroom, which had a dressing room. It was like a big, walk-in closet. There were four other rooms, which were a bit smaller. The largest of these rooms we use as a living room. In another, I set up a small room for myself." 

         Jamie looked up from his notebook. 

         "Why did you need a private room?" 

         "I simply felt the need for a place that only belonged to me. I wanted to be able to sew without disturbing Frank. While living in Boston, I could only do that when he was away from home. He always felt disturbed by the sound of the sewing machine. I also wanted to have a place where I could keep a diary, a place where I could place my pictures on the walls." 

W. Ulbricht im Tal der Könige, Ägypten *   
Picture: Bundesarchiv, Bild 183-D0227-0053-004 / CC-BY-SA 3.0  
[CC BY-SA 3.0 de ( [https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/de/deed.en](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0%2Fde%2Fdeed.en&t=YTk1MWIxNGQzM2UwNDQ1OWMzZGQ3MTYzMzhhNGI0Zjg4NzZiNjhmOCxVaXZuMDltRQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177671948600%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-8-claires&m=1) )], via Wikimedia Commons

 

         Jamie looked up from his notes. His face showed astonishment. 

"        Why couldn't you hang your pictures somewhere else in the house?" 

         "Frank was against it. I have many pictures of myself and my uncle Lambert, of the places we visited during his expeditions and excavations. Mostly ... unconventional pictures. Frank said that they would not fit into the overall picture of our house. After all, we would have guests, colleagues from the university, and my pictures could raise questions ... " 

         "What questions?" 

         "Questions about my 'unconventional past', my 'unconventional upbringing', my ‘unconventional education’  ... Frank did not want that to be known to his new colleagues." 

         Jamie rolled his eyes. 

"        When he talked to his colleagues, however, my doctor's degree always came quickly to his lips ... But he always added that I would not work at the moment because we wanted to start a family."  

         "What happened then after you arrived in Berlin?" 

         "As I said, the arrangement of the house took a lot of time, especially since I had to do most of it alone. Frank, when he was in Berlin to buy the house, had also commissioned a company to paint and decorate it. He had also brought a floor plan, so that we planned the layout and furnishing of the rooms while still in Boston. But with all the boxes of our belongings ... I was alone. Frank started working at the university the week after we arrived. He had little time to help and if he had it was only on the weekends. In addition, one of our containers arrived late. It took about two months for us to get properly set up." 

         "And then?" 

         "Well, the first month were good. I took care of the house, we tried to get pregnant, ... Frank got to know his colleagues, we went to parties ... we also took some trips. Although Frank liked to spend the weekends at home - at least at that time - he was well aware that it was not good if we didn’t do anything together. We visited the Reichstag and boarded the Reichstag dome. Of course, Frank knew everything about the history of the building. When we arrived at the top of the dome, he was talking about the Reichstag fire in 1933 and what consequences it had for the country. Some seniors who stood beside us started a conversation with Frank. They were thrilled to be talking to a real 'Herr Professor' ... After a few minutes, I took off from Frank and the seniors and explored the dome on my own. The architect's idea that the glass dome over the Parliament should urge the Members of Parliament to be more transparent towards the citizens impressed me a lot. When Frank's seniors had said goodbye, I told him about it. But he found this idea 'unrealistic'. Politicians would do what they wanted ...  _no artistic symbol would have the power to change that._ " 

Blick durch die Kuppel des Reichstages in den Abgeordnetenhaus des Deutschen Bundestages (View through the dome of the Reichstag into the House of Representatives of the German Bundestag) * Picture: By Another Believer [CC BY-SA 4.0  ( [https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F4.0&t=MjQzZTQ3NzI3Mjg5NjU2NDAyMDExZDdhMzgyMDJiODczYTk0OGZkYixVaXZuMDltRQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177671948600%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-8-claires&m=1) )], via Wikimedia Commons

 

         She sighed, then she looked down and said nothing for a moment.  

         "Still, these month were some of our better times. We visited Charlottenburg Palace, the TV Tower, the Gendarmenmarkt, the German and the French Cathedral. In our second summer in Berlin, we even made a river cruise on the Spree. I remember that well ... and gladly. It was a very nice experience. In the evening we were eating at the Corroboree. That is a …" 

         "... Australian restaurant in the Tiergarten district. I know,"  Jamie said smiling. 

         "You know it?" 

         "Yes, a colleague of mine, Ben Hombach, wanted to know how kangaroo tastes. He invited me there." 

         "And? Did you eat kangaroo?" she challenged him. 

         Jamie decided to play along. He was sure that they would have to address many unpleasant things in their conversations. Why shouldn’t he give her a moment of relaxation?  

         "No, I opted for a steak after all. I like kangaroos too much to have one of them on my plate. But please continue. " 

         "As I said, this time was positive. We hardly argued and when, it was never a big fight. It was always forgiven quickly and forgotten. In between, we visited Frank's cousin in England or Alex came to us. Mutual visits to Christmas were ... obligatory. Frank enjoyed these stays in England very much. Although there is a great deal of English culture in Berlin - and even some English restaurants ... " 

         "Like the ‘East London’, for example." 

         "Were you there with your friend Ben too?" 

         "No, not yet and to be honest, due to my background I prefer the Scottish Pub in Lichterfelde. They have over 800 varieties of whiskey on offer." 

         "I would be glad if I had one whiskey now." 

         "Alcohol is ...." 

         "... forbidden in prison. I know. Where was I? Oh yes, family visits. Alex, Frank's cousin, also liked to come to Berlin. I think it was the third year after our move that he visited us on the occasion of my birthday. Frank invited us on a trip to the Museum Island. We visited the New Museum with the Nefertiti hall. That was a really special event for me. My uncle Lamb had often told me about her bust. He had been to Berlin several times and had seen her. However, that was long before he became my guardian and long before the Egyptian queen got her own room in the renovated Museum. So my first visit there was a very special experience. However, the mood was soon to change. On Saturday that week we had guests to celebrate my birthday. Several of Frank's colleagues with wives or girlfriends were there, but I also invited a few people whom I had met in the meantime." 

         "So you also had new contacts on your own?" 

         "A few, yes." 

         "Tell me about these people!" 

         "Well, you certainly know that years before you have a baby you have to register for a kindergarten place. Of course we did not want any kindergarten for our child, but an English speaking one. So we visited our chosen kindergarten and had a conversation with the headmistress, Mary Hawkins. She was immediately sympathetic to me, and after meeting her in the city a few weeks later, we stayed in touch and became friends. Next to our house in Grunewald lived an elderly lady, Glenna Fitz-Gibbons. Her husband, who died a few years ago, was an English officer stationed with some NATO units. She herself has worked for the English Embassy. Over time, we developed a very good relationship. We started talking about the flowers that I planted in our garden and from then on we met regularly for tea. One day Frank brought home a young colleague who had just moved to Berlin with his wife. His name is Roger Wakefield. He is a nice guy, very helpful and friendly. He and his wife Fiona have a little son, named Colin. They are very ... conventional ... if you understand what I mean. Nevertheless, I met with Fiona every now and then. " 

         "She is not as unconventional as you?" 

         Claire smiled, but that smile did not last long. 

         "I had invited these three women. Oh, and a fourth one. A nurse whom I knew from the Benjamin Franklin Hospital in Berlin, or better, trough a friend from Boston. Her name is Gellis Duncan. She is Scottish but lived and worked in Boston for several years, at the same hospital as my friend Joe Abernathy. She is engaged with a doctor and when he was called to Berlin, she went with him. Joe wrote me and asked me to take care of her. She did not know anybody in Berlin. So I made an appointment with her and showed her the city. We stayed in contact and met often." 

River cruise ships on the Spree / Berlin, the Bode-Museum (with dome) at the right side marks the Entrance to the Museum Island *   
Picture: by Bode Museum [GFDL ( [http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.gnu.org%2Fcopyleft%2Ffdl.html&t=NWZkNTEzMTE3MjBkNjViNjViYzYxMDAyZTZkMDdkZDY3OTFiMDZkNCxVaXZuMDltRQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177671948600%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-8-claires&m=1) ) or CC-BY-SA-3.0   
( [http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0%2F&t=Yzc1OTdmOThjYjk1NjU1ZTEwMWFjMjgxMjNlYWFmYWI3M2RhNDc3MyxVaXZuMDltRQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177671948600%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-8-claires&m=1) )], via Wikimedia Commons

 

 

         "Did you also have any contacts or friendships with 'locals'?" 

         Claire rolled her eyes. Then she leaned forward and whispered: 

         "Yes, but do not pass it on!" 

         Jamie leaned over and whispered: 

         "Promised. Tell me more! " 

         "Well, I got to know one of the librarians of the district library when I registered there. Her name is Suzette Fournier." 

         "But that sounds French." 

         "Suzette comes from one of the Huguenot families who fled France after the persecutions three hundred years ago. Her family has kept the custom of giving the children French names and they also tend to cultivate some French customs. But Suzette is already very German. You must see her when she drinks beer. But ... yes its true ... most of my contacts and friendships to ’locals’ came after I moved to my present apartment ... after Frank’s death." 

         "How did your husband relate to these contacts or friendships you mentioned?" 

         "He was not against me meeting with those woman, but after my birthday party he said that next time I should invite them separately. These women wouldn’t be  _the right people_  to have when his colleagues and their wives were our guests. I was angry, but I swallowed it down and later I just didn’t talk about it anymore and from our fourth year here it got harder and harder with us." 

         Jamie looked at her, took a deep breath. Then he said: 

         "I know, Claire, it's certainly hard for you ... but we need to discuss that time. We do not know what this ... witness .... and your husband's cousin will tell the court ... we have to be prepared." 

         She nodded and he saw her body stiffen. 

         "For the first two years, everything was reasonably normal. But when I did not get pregnant in the third year ... Frank became more and more angry. He did not show it at first, but I did notice the anger seething inside him. I tried to comfort him, to give him hope .... " 

         "Did you suggest to him that you both could undergo medical examination?"       

         "No! I had thought about that, but no. I ... I was worried that ... how he would react." 

         Claire went silent for a moment. Her face showed signs of despair.  

         "In Boston ... I once addressed the issue of adoption ..."  

         "How did her husband react?" 

         "With a tantrum. He ... he said, he only wanted to accept a child of his own blood."  

         "Did you fear that you husband would become violent?" 

         "Well, as I said, once he nearly slapped me. That was when he found out that I had started medical school. In some disputes that we had later, I noticed that he pulled all his strength together not to hit me. But he used his words to hurt me. That was much more effective. Besides, they left no  _visible_  injuries." 

         "You said the deterioration of your marriage started in your third year in Berlin ..." 

         "Yes, it was in the fall of that year. The summer was, as I said, still quite positive. Then Frank flew to Prague for a conference ... two weeks before the autumn-winter semester should begin. The conference lasted only a weekend, but he called and said that he would return later. He wanted to exchange views with colleagues and take the opportunity to get to know the history of the city. I knew he was lying to me while he talked. Later I learned that Frank met his old affair in Prague  - Sandy Travers. Except that she had married in the meantime and was now called Miller." 

         "How did you find out about them?" 

         "I learned about it from Roger Wakefield. Of course he didn’t inform me voluntarily. Roger was also at this conference. However, he came home immediately after the weekend. He may be very conventions-minded, but he's a man with a  conscience. Roger can’t lie well. Weeks after the said conference I met with his wife in the city and afterwards she invited me for a tea. Roger came home earlier than intended and they both asked me to stay for dinner. When Fiona put little Colin to bed, I freely asked Roger if Frank had anything to do with another woman in Prague. Frank had obliged him to secrecy, but ... he blushed and was embarrassed and then he quietly said 'yes'. I didn’t have to know more. When Roger drove me home, he tried somehow to mediate. But I told him he didn’t have to worry. I did not mean to tell Frank that I knew it from him. Before we said goodbye Roger told me that he did not know the woman and he also gave me her name. I knew immediately that it was her, even if her last name had changed. I did not tell Frank about it, but I withdrew internally - and externally - from him. When he asked me a few weeks later  _‘why I was so cold to him’_ , I told him that I didn’t believe him, that he was only interested in colleagues and sightseeing while he was in Prague. I told him that I suspected him having a new affair." 

         "How did he react to that?" 

         "He called me hysterical and said I had delusions. Then he left the house. I ... I got drunk and slept in my own room. Frank came back sometime in the night. The next morning he was waiting for me at the breakfast table as if nothing had ever happened." 

         "So you continued to live with him." 

         "What should I have done? I had no one besides him. In addition, I was financially dependent on him at this time. I had inherited a larger sum by my uncle. But when we moved to Berlin, I had invested this money for several years ... at the time, I still thought that everything would be better. Now I could not get that money. I was desperate and slowly slipped into depression. I felt so incompetent, so inadequate, so worthless." 

         "Did you see a doctor?" 

         "Yes. I have a German regular physician, Dr. Clemens Dupont." 

         "A very German name,"  Jamie said smiling.

         "I met him though Suzette, his family ..." 

         "... has been living in Berlin for 187 years." 

         "About that time, yes. But seriously, he referred me to a therapist in Charlottenburg, Dr. Brosig. Meeting and talking with him, did me good. But just when I was feeling better, the next blow came." 

         Jamie sensed that they were now approaching the hardest part of the conversation. So he only nodded. 

         "It was in the spring after the conference in Prague. I remember very well. It was a beautiful, sunny April day. For the first time after a long time I felt well enough to go for a walk. I walked through the forest area that bordered our house in the direction of Grunewaldsee. On my way back, I passed one of the larger villas, three blocks from our house. It is divided into several apartments and there I saw her - Sandy Travers. She stood beside a large moving van and directed men carrying furniture into the house. I could not believe my eyes. Frank had possessed the insolence and quartered his affair in our neighborhood." 

* * *

 

_**Thank you for reading. Next time, read: Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (3): Sharing joy and sorrow** _

 


	9. Secret Whitsun holidays on Rügen (3): Sharing joy and sorrow (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally Jamie and Claire (with Adso and Bismarck) will reach their destination on the island of Rügen. (Some fluff for the weekend :)

****

“Deutsche Alleenstraße Rügen” by [hpgruesen](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fdeutsche-alleenstra%25C3%259Fe-r%25C3%25BCgen-garz-1393599%2F&t=MTQ3NzJkMDZkYmMyZTg3YTU4NzI3ZGNlZDMyYjdiMTE1OTE4MjAyZSw0YnRkWnlMVA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178094362060%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-9-secret&m=1)

 

**Saturday of the Whitsun weekend 2020, one day after Claire’s dismissal from prison  
**

         At 10 am it was finally time. The little black dragon named ‘Prince Bismarck’ had been put into his transport box and placed next to the box with Adso on the back seat of the car. Claire, who was already in the car when Jamie put Bismarck’s box next to Adsos’, heard the cat making some sharp hissing and grumbling noises. He could not have seen the dog, but Claire was sure he had smelled it. And - as expected - shortly afterwards a small but distinct growl could be heard from the dog box. When the animals had found their place, Jamie put his small suitcase next to the Styrofoam boxes in the trunk. Then he got in and drove off. But shortly thereafter he stopped again at a small gray stone house, which stood at the entrance of the property between some firs and deciduous trees. Jamie got out and hurried down a small stone path to the front door. Shortly after he had rung the door opened and he disappeared inside. From where she sat, Claire couldn’t see _who_ had opened the door and wondered why she hadn’t noticed this house on their way to the mansion. Who was living here? Only moments later, Jamie got back in the car. When he saw Claire’s face, he smiled and said:

         “This is the former custodian’s house. Today it houses an elderly couple, Martha and Heinrich Schaller. My father gave them a job. They take care of almost everything that happens with our house - cleaning, gardening, etc. And of course, they also take care of it when I’m not there.”

         Did he really say _'our house’_ and if so did he mean his family with this _'our’_? She didn’t really want to pursue this question and turned their talk into a different direction:

         “I thought you activated the alarm again?”

         “Yes, I’ve done that. Nevertheless, it is good if someone sees to it, rolls up the blinds during the day and airs the rooms before we come back.”

         Claire nodded.

         _‘Before 'we’ come back?”_ ‘ she thought. Did he plan to spend more time with her in his house?

         She got a little queasy.

         “When we come back, I like to introduce you to them. What do you think?”   
  
         “And _as whom_ do you want to introduce me?”

         “Hm, what about introducing you as my future wife and thus the next ‘Lady of the House’?”

         He grinned all over his face.

         “Wouldn’t that be dangerously premature?”

         "Hmmmm, that’s one way to call it. However, I would call it the statement of a hopeful heart.”   
  
         “Lawyers, never lost of their very own definitions,” Claire said with a mischievous smile on her face.   
  
         “Arguments, Claire, good, strong, well-founded arguments. And we don’t bring them on for us, _but always for the welfare of our clients._ ”   
  
         “I know, Dr. Fraser. Lawyers are the most unselfish people ever. Doctors, on the other hand, do everything they do …. _just because of the money_.”   
  
         Jamie tried to give his face the most serious expression he was able of. Then he said very calmly:   
  
         “I’m glad, Dr. Beauchamp, that you see it this way. Only a few people are capable of this kind of insight.”   
  
         Then they both burst into loud laughter. 

View over the Werbellinsee and the Biosphere Reservation Schorfheide-Chorin by Anne Hoffmann [CC BY-SA 4.0  ([https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F4.0&t=MmI4M2QxNmM1NmI5YTIyNGUzYWQ0NDkzZTg3NDY2YTQ4NGQ1MjdiYSw0YnRkWnlMVA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178094362060%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-9-secret&m=1))], via [Wikimedia Commons   
](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3AWerbellinsee.jpg&t=YjAyM2IwMjY3NGM2NDBjOTQyNzgwNGZkZTgwYTQxM2Q1MzVmZmRhOCw0YnRkWnlMVA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178094362060%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-9-secret&m=1)

         Adso and Bismarck, who had remained calm up to this point of the journey, joined the background noise that were caused by 'their humans’. At first it was Bismarck, who gave some loud wuffs, then Adso answered with various meows and hissing sounds. Claire and Jamie looked at each other and laughed again. When their laughter and the animal’s approval sounds had died down, Jamie had bypassed Berlin halfway and had turned onto the Federal Highway No. 5.   
         They drove through Bernau and past the former GDR government settlement of Wandlitz, which he briefly mentioned to Claire.   
         A little later they reached the Biosphere Reserve Schorfheide-Chorin. Jamie wanted to start a small lecture on the political history of the Schorfheide. Starting with the Prussian Kings centuries ago, the Schorfheide was used as a huge hunting ground. Later it was occupied by Herman Göring, the second most powerful man in the ‘Third Reich’. After making himself the ‘Reichsjägermeister’ (’Chief Hunting Master of the Reich’), he used the area for his hunting peasures and built his palace like hunting-lodge [‘Carinhall’](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FCarinhall&t=ODAzOTIyZGE1ODY3MzA0ZWQ0MTdiNTMxZjJiM2NkMDVkMzBjODhhNSw0YnRkWnlMVA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178094362060%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-9-secret&m=1) there, whose ruins can still be seen until today. With the downfall of the ‘Third Reich’ and the establishment of the so called ‘German Democratic Republic’ in the east of the country, the communist leaders of this sattelite state to the UdSSR discovered hunting in the Schorfheide for themselves and their guests of state. Apparently, they never realized that by doing so, they made themselves a part of a centuries-old, very bourgeois tradition. It was, what the Germans would call a [‘Treppenwitz der Geschichte’](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FL%2527esprit_de_l%2527escalier&t=YmEzOTM2YzVlNDg5NTQyY2MzN2M4MjlhZjcyMTg5NjJlY2RkYWQwYyw0YnRkWnlMVA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178094362060%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-9-secret&m=1).  All of this went though his mind, but he had noticed how much Claire liked the quiet ride through the green oasis and so he kept silent. Claire’s features had relaxed. Every now and then there was even an expression of great inner joy on her face. So when they came to Eberswalde, Jamie made a turn and promptly the voice of the woman from the route-guidance system was heard, ordering him to return to the given route _immediately_.  
  
         “Why don’t you go on with the planned route?” Claire asked a little confused.   
  
         “We only make a very short detour. I want to show you something that I suppose you’ll like.”   
  
         Moments later Jamie stopped at the Finow Canal. He undid his seat belt and said:   
  
         “We’ve to go a short distance, but it’s worth it.”

         They got out and Jamie locked the car with a push of the key. Together they started to move. After about ten minutes, he gently grabbed Claire by the arm and whispered:

         “Please, go slowly and be quiet.” 

         Claire, who had been paying close attention to the grassy path, slowed her pace and looked at Jamie. She followed his gaze and then she saw it: Only a few hundred yards away a large number of cranes had settled down. Some walked through the low water on the shore, head down, looking for fish, others sat on poles that had been let into the water and plumped up their feathers.

         “They have just returned from the south. Actually since March, but there are still some coming in. Did you know that about 300,000 cranes per year rest twice in Germany? In addition there are hundreds of thousands of other migratory birds - storks, gray geese, cormorants and others. The cranes come from Norway, Sweden and even from northern Finland. In the state of Brandenburg alone, about 120,000 rest on their way to the south of France, Spain, Morocco or Israel. On the island of Rügen up to 40,000 cranes have their resting places. You’ll see, the island has a unique fauna and flora.”

         Claire had listened to him, but her eyes were still fixed on the big birds in the water.   
  
         “During the day,” Jamie continued in a whisperin tone, “they are on their way to collect food. Grain remains in the fields, insects, berries, small rodents. In the afternoon, they settle in the water, catch small fish or frogs and clean their plumage.” 

         “They look … kind of … elegant. How they flounce through the water … ” 

 

“Aufbrechende Kraniche bei Tagesanbruch in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern” by Frank Liebig - eigenes Archiv - [via Wikimedia Commons  ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3AAufbruch_EO5P2268-2.JPG%23%2Fmedia%2FFile%3AAufbruch_EO5P2268-2.JPG&t=ZmZjOWE3Mzk1M2Y3OTViOTE4MWUyNmNkYzJmNWUyYTVkMzFjYzY4ZCw0YnRkWnlMVA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178094362060%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-9-secret&m=1)[CC-BY-SA-3.0-DE  
](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FCategory%3ACC-BY-SA-3.0-DE&t=YmUzYTc5ZGFhZmNlYTBhZDUzNmZmM2U0Y2YwNWM3NzUxYWFlOWMxNyw0YnRkWnlMVA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178094362060%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-9-secret&m=1)

         “Yes. One reason why the crane has impressed people for millennia. Schiller, Goethe and Kleist are but a few poets who have dedicated poetry to this animal.”

         “And the crane is also a popular model of origami.” 

         Claire smiled as Jamie nodded to her. Then he handed her his right hand and together they went to the car. Jamie drove the car back onto the main road and the female voice (”Please return to … please return to …”) from the route-guidance system finally went silent. After some time they left Prenzlau behind and two hours and thirty minutes after leaving Berlin, they arrived at Pasewalk. Already in Berlin Jamie had announced that they could have lunch there. They headed for a hotel with a brewery restaurant in its cellars. But before they had lunch, they provided Adso and Bismarck with fresh water and dry food. After their meal, they went for a walk, which didn’t prove to be that easy. While Bismarck slowly got used to walking on a leash, Adso constantly resisted and so Claire had to carry the cat all the way back. 

 

The city of Stralsund (in the back), bridge over the Rügendamm, bridge of the Ziegelgraben und and the new Rügenbridge over the Strelasund (all along the isle of Dänholm) by Klugschnacker - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

 

        After driving past the cities of Neubrandenburg and Anklam, they also left Greifswald and Stralsund behind. Shortly thereafter, they finally reached the Strelasund crossing, which brought them over to the small island of Dänholm and the Rügendamm which gave way to the island with the same name.   
         When Jamie and Claire had left Berlin, they had driven through the large wooded areas of the State of Brandenburg for a long time. Then their path lead them through the water-rich State of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern. And now, having passed trough the towns of Rambin and Bergen, the landscape changed again. Wooded areas alternated with small towns and almost unimaginable large rapeseed fields of bright yellow - swirling in the wind and being the target of countless buzzing bees. A few minutes after leaving Lietzow and Sagard, they arrived near Lohme. Jamie steered the car in the direction of a forest and then into a forest path. Some hundred yards into the forest he stopped in front of a small thatched two-storey house. 

 

“Reethaus auf Rügen” by [BNPT](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fr%25C3%25BCgen-insel-r%25C3%25BCgen-ostsee-reetdach-356339%2F&t=MTA5MjVhZDg5YmZiZjgyMDhjNmVlNWIwNjYyMDVjMzAyZTU0YmI2Yyw0YnRkWnlMVA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178094362060%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-9-secret&m=1)

 

         Claire got out of the car and stretched extensively. Then she stopped and listened. In fact, one could already hear the sea surf from here.

         “Almost five hours, a pretty long time,” she said.   
  
         “You’re right. But you’ll see, it’s worth it,” he answered while walking to her. Looking into her eyes, he gently pulled her near and kisses her.

         “Thank you so much for taking me here,” Claire whispered.

         “No reason to thank me. Thank _you_ for coming with me,” he answered and his face lightened up.  
  

         While Jamie had opened the front door and carried the Styrofoam boxes and the cooler into the house, Claire took the suitcases and followed him. When entering the house, one immediately came into a large rectangular room. On the right side was a small, open dining space with a large oak wood table and six chairs around it. On the left side of the door was the living room area. In front of a brick fireplace stood two large leather armchairs, between them a small round table offered space for glasses or books. Behind it was an L-shaped leather couch with a coffee table in the shape of an immense tree trunk plate. Four windows on either side of the large room let a lot of light into the house. However, the trees and shrubs surrounding the house protected its inhabitants against uninvited glances. The walls were painted white and stood in stark contrast to the dark oak furniture. In some places hung small paintings showing maritime sceneries. A little corridor led to the back of the house. Two doors went off this corridor. Behind the door on the side of the living room was a modern bathroom. The second door, which was on the side of the dining area, gave access to a fully equipped kitchen. Claire heard how Jamie put the food in there. When he returned to the living area, she asked:

         “Where should the suitcases go?” 

         “One moment. I’ll get the animals first.” 

         A little later he came with the two transport boxes, ran out again and came back with a large shopping bag.

         “The cat litter box and the food for our little fur monsters,” he said with a frown.  
  
         Claire rolled her eyes and began whistling theatrically. Then she saw Jamie setting up the litter box in the bathroom and carrying the food to the kitchen.  
  
         “Come, I’ll show you the upper floor.”  
  
         “Don’t you want the animals first …”  
  
         “No, it only takes a few minutes and during this time I do not want to run around unattended.”  
  
         Claire nodded, then she followed Jamie down the hall to the wooden staircase that led to the upper floor, wondering if Bismarck and Adso would ever be able to get together. Had Jamie taken into account the possibility that the two might not stay together? What would happen, if they hurt each other? She would not stand it if she had to put Adso into his transport box all day. Would the animals behavior lead to an early termination of this weekend that started so promising? Jamie’s voice tore her from her thoughts:  
  
         “There are three bedrooms. Two single bedrooms and one double bedroom. Which room do you want?”  
  
         Claire looked around and tried to find an answer to his question as soon as possible. Should she suggest that they continue to sleep together in a double bed? Wouldn’t that suggest that she was unable to handle her problemson her own? But what if Jamie interpreted that as a way to distance herself from him? Would it hurt him?  
  
         “W-what-do you want?”  
  
         “I’ll take what’s left.”  
  
         He smiled at her.  
  
         “Then I’ll take this one ,” she said, pointing to the room opposite the one with the double bed.  
  
         “Good! More room for me, "Jamie replied, carrying his suitcase to the double room. Claire put her suitcase on the bed of the room she had chosen and began unpacking it. A small chest of drawers above which hung a framed mirror and a two-door wardrobe provided space for their clothes. To her surprise, the furniture was made of light beech. From the two small windows of the room she could look at a terrace and the garden behind it. Claire was almost done when Jamie appeared in the doorway.  
  
         "Will you come down when you’re done?”  
  
         “Sure. Just a couple of minutes.”  
  
         “Good. Would you like coffee or tea?”  
  
         “Oh, now I could really use a coffee.”  
  
         Jamie ran down the stairs and disappeared into the kitchen shortly thereafter. “She’s right,” he thought, “five hours is a long time.” He could have gone faster, but he didn’t want it. He wanted nothing more than that this little holiday would give Claire a peaceful time for relaxation, some change of environment and the opportunity to discover something new and beautiful. The past six months had been full of stress and negative excitement for her. It was about time that she got some rest. Obviously she needed that. Why else would she have chosen a bedroom for herself?  
  
       When she came down a few minutes later, the table in the living room was already covered. From the kitchen came the smell of freshly brewed coffee. She opened the kitchen door and walked towards Jamie, who stood with his back towards her. Carefully, she put her hands on his shoulders. The moment he felt the warmth of her hands on his body, he felt a shower of goosebumps running down his spine and sighed. Claire’s hands wandered down his back and around his chest, where she put them to rest. He sighed again, when she laid her head against his left shoulder.

         “Jamie, what are you worried about?”

         “I’m not worried about anything,” he said, slowly turning to her. Looking into her eyes, he pulled her even closer. Resting her head on his chest, he whispered:

         “What should I care about when you’re with me, when I hold you in my arms, when I breathe the wonderful smell of your hair, when your warmth covers my body?”  
  
         Claire raised her head and fought the feeling of upcoming tears.

         “Come on Claire. Let’s take the coffee, get a seat on the sofa and I’ll show you what our fighting dog and our fighting cat are able to do to each other.” 

* * *

_**Thank you for reading. Next time: "The bloody facts” or “What happened to Frank Randall?” The facts of the crime, no fluff and maybe not suitable for every reader.** _


	10. The Bloody Facts, or What happened to Frank Randall?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two short notes for my readers: Due to a bereavement in our family I wasn’t able to finish this chapter earlier. I hope that I will be able to post the next chapters more frequently. Warning: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of physical mutilation as it would be discussed in a homicide case before a criminal court. If that triggers something in you or makes you feel unwell, please do not read it, just skip this chapter for your own sake. More Jamie & Claire, Adso & Bismarck fluff awaits you in chapter 11 (hopefully Wednesday).
> 
> If you have any questions about this chapter (or anything else), just send me a message or write it down in the comments.

(”Tür” by [dawes28](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Ft%25C3%25BCr-treppe-stufen-eingang-604987%2F&t=ODA0MTBiNjc4NjkwMTBkMWU1ZTU2OWEyYTU2ZjMyZWM5NGNmOTNiZixRdHc4UzViMg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176319986440%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-1-free&m=1))

 

**Six months ago, two hours after the First Attorney's Visit to Prison, at Claire’s home.**

         The pictures were bloody. Disgusting bloody. Gruesome. Disturbing. Repulsive. Horrible. But they didn’t affect him. In the ten years he now worked as a specialist lawyer in criminal law, he had handled about forty murder cases. And he had heeded the advice of his father: "If evil frightens you, it will win and claim countless other victims. Malice does not sleep and it does not know holidays. You have to learn to face the evil with steadfastness. The wounded need an open, compassionate heart. But the wicked, they must be faced with a 'tough face'." Brian Fraser had looked straight into his eyes and had put his hands on his shoulders. Then he had quoted words from the book of the prophet Ezekiel: "But know: I will make your face hard as theirs, and your forehead as hard as theirs: like a diamond, harder than a pebble, I will make your forehead. Do not be afraid of them and do not be intimidated by their looks!" [1]

         In the beginning, it had not been easy for him and still, he could very well understand those whose stomach rebelled at the sight of such pictures. But he had worked on himself, as told by his father, and at some point, he had gotten used to it.

         The first three pictures of the Lichtbildmappe (photo folder) showed - only partly recognizable - footprints. Apparently, a person had walked over a rainy path and then entered the house without cleaning his or her shoes. A note below the pictures informed him that the prints were of the soles of Frank Randall's shoes. As it could be seen from the pictures, the footprints were coming from the front door and led down the hall to the staircase that led to the upper part of the house. In addition to the footprints, one could see drops of blood in some places along the way. The pictures L04 and L05, which were probably taken very close to the staircase, showed bloody prints of a hand on a pastel green background. "Imprint of the left hand (presumably of the victim Frank Randall) on the wall of room 1," the forensic detective had written underneath. 

 

(”Sandwich” by [mp1746](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fsandwich-roastbeef-gurke-karotte-1580353%2F&t=NTQwYTgzYTc0NDAzYjY1OTRlZTM3ZjYwNjE0MmNlMmNjNjc0YjNiNSxZSmdIeWwzbg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178868502350%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-10-the-bloody&m=1))

 

         Jamie reached for one of the sandwiches that he had brought with him and took a bite. Then he put the rest back on the plate and reached for the Pepsi bottle. After taking a sip, he flipped the pages. L06 and L07 showed rivulets of blood that flowed from the first pedestal down the stairs to the first step. More blood was also on the handrail above the three steps that led up to said pedestal (L08 and L09). He turned the pages again. L10 showed a complete picture of Frank Randall's fully clothed corpse. The man lay with his upper body on the landing, his lower body lay on the steps that led from there to the next floor. L11 showed Frank's head lying in a massive pool of blood. His hair, whose color was no longer recognizable, seemed to be one bloody mass. There were also numerous small and some large bloodstains on his face. Jamie immediately noticed the Frank Randall’s facial expression. While his legs and arms were in unnatural positions, the dead's face was calm, almost serene. Jamie grabbed his sandwich again. He bit off and then rinsed down the bite with another sip of Pepsi. L12 and L13 were probably taken from the steps above the pedestal. One could see the body of the dead man and the walls, which surrounded the pedestal. The picture gave Jamie an impression of how much blood Frank Randall had lost. Apart from the pool of blood that had formed around his head and the blood that had flowed down the first few steps in some rivulets, one could see countless smaller and larger blood spots on both walls. Pictures of the left wall followed (L14 and L15). There, too, blood was visible, but not in the form of drops of blood, but rather as blurred stripes. It seemed that Frank Randall had tried to wipe off his bloody hands. The last two pictures of this part of the photo folder (L16 and L17) showed where the traces of blood led to. They ended about halfway up the stairs. 

         Jamie put a pencil between the pages of the folder. With a second pen, he recorded thoughts and questions into a black [DIN A-4](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paper_size) notebook. Then he leaned back, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His brain had been working while looking at each picture. All the time, he had wondered what statements could be made regarding the crime due to the traces of blood. But now he wondered if the traces of blood matched the course of action described in the indictment. He doubted it. But doubt alone was not enough. He had to find facts. Facts with which he could convincingly disprove the prosecution's charges. He picked up the pen again and wrote down some things that seemed questionable to him. Then he took the last bite of the sandwich. 

         While he was still chewing, he heard the creaking of the kitchen door and shortly afterward Adso appeared. The cat strolled slowly but purposefully onto the sofa Jamie was sitting on. Once there, he stroked purring around Jamie's legs a few times before jumping to the seat to the left of him. Jamie looked skeptical at the cat, and, as he had expected it, Adso's interest was not actually his six-foot, red-haired can opener. His focus was apparently on his second sandwich. Jamie grabbed the cat, set it on the ground, and held it there for a moment.

         “You had a whole can of chicken royale, old boy. You don’t get my roast beef sandwich as dessert! Either you are content to stay here with me or I'll take you back to the kitchen. Your decision!"

         The cat made some grumbled sounds and Jamie let him go. Adso now jumped on the seat to the right of Jamie, lay down there and began with a copious cat wash.

 

(”Katze” by [3dman_eu](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fkatze-rot-sofa-rote-katze-fell-1517485%2F&t=NDVlMDljMmM3ZDhiOTAwNDlkZmNkMTgzOTk2YWFkODk2YWRmZThjMyxZSmdIeWwzbg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178868502350%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-10-the-bloody&m=1))

 

         "Good. I don’t mind if you want to lie there. But my roast beef sandwich is taboo."

         When the cat showed no further reaction, Jamie took the second sandwich and bit into it. After another sip of Pepsi, he opened the file again. His eyes fell on the writing on the cardboard cover in front of him: "Photographs of the Forensic Section of the corps of Randall, Frank Wolverton." The headline was followed by Frank's date of birth and date of death, the names and titles of the forensic scientists, the names of the assistants and the number of the Forensic Section (S 289/2019). Underneath he found the place, date, and duration of the Forensic Section. Jamie knew what awaited him and so he turned the pages without further delay.

         The first picture (S01) showed the entire, now undressed corpse of Frank Randall from the front, laying on a steel table. There were several hematomas on his arms and chest. From these hematomas, pictures S02 to S07 showed close-up shots. Underneath the pictures, the exact measurements of every hematoma were written. S08 showed the whole corpse from the back. On Frank's back were two significant hematomas, of which there were also close-ups with exact size information (S09 and S10). Jamie bit off his roast beef sandwich and took another sip of Pepsi. Then he turned the page. The first four pictures on the new page showed close-ups (right, left, front and back) of Frank's head and his blood-soaked hair (S11 - S14), followed by shots of the head from the same perspectives. But this time, however, the head was shorn and cleaned. As Jamie had already mentioned in his conversation with Claire, there were seven lacerations on Frank's shaven skull that had damaged and even severed the scalp. These lacerations had an unusual shape. It seemed as someone had carved the [runic letter "algiz"](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Runic_letter_algiz.svg) on the right and left sides of the skull. In the middle, there was another single laceration. It was a straight line, which was placed slightly higher than the other lacerations.

         Jamie again put a pencil between the pages. Then he closed the file. Where did these wounds come from? Who had done that to Frank Randall and most important of all – with what kind of tool or weapon? The prosecution assumed that the tool had to be a blow poke. Frank's cousin Alex had given him and Claire such a device for their fireplace a few years ago as a Christmas present. It was a tube made of metal and about one meter long, through which one could blow air into a fire. At one end of the tube was a sharp hook, with which one could also move logs inside the fireplace. Alex Randall, Frank's cousin, could not remember exactly _in which year_ he had brought this device. But he still knew exactly _where_ he had purchased it. One evening, while surfing the internet, he discovered a page called _‘Hot Stuff’_. As he admitted in his interrogation at the police in England, the search for chimney tools had not led him to this page ... But having overcome his initial disappointment, he took the time to study the dealer's offerings. He remembered that Frank had mentioned that he missed a blow poke for the operation of the house fireplace, but hadn’t found such a device in Germany yet. “Germans,” Frank had said, “know only Schürhaken (poking sticks).”  So Alex made his decision immediately when among all the offers of ‘Hot Stuff’ he found a brass-colored blow poke that would match Frank's fireplace tools. Although he found the price of 45,00 Euro for the blow poke and 5,00 Euro for shipping and packing a bit exaggerated, he ordered the device that night. Christmas was only once a year, and after all, Frank and Claire were the only relatives to whom he gave something for Christmas. Alex Randall had told the police on record that he had paid for it by Paypal in advance and that he received his order about five days later by mail. He had also told the English police officers that Frank was _‘very pleased’_  when he received the gift.

         As understandable as the presumption of the prosecutor was (that the blow poke Alex Randall gave to Frank an Claire was used to kill Frank) so problematic was this assumption, however. To this day, the said blow poke had not surfaced. The chances were 50:50. The prosecutor couldn't prove that the blow poke was the tool by which the crime was committed, nor could Jamie in return prove that it wasn't the murder weapon.

         Jamie got up and started pacing the room. Maybe the chances weren’t 50:50. Maybe he could at least turn the absence of the murder weapon into a 70:30? If he could only sow enough doubt about the prosecution's thesis on the blow poke into the minds and hearts of the judges, and especially the two lay judges, maybe he could convince them that Claire was not the culprit.  
         He remembered the sensational case of Marianne Wagner. After the woman (who had been charged with the murder of her two underage sons) was sentenced to life in prison, which meant a minimum of 15 years, a new lawyer convinced the higher regional court, so that a revision procedure was carried out. When the case was heard before another regional court, Wagner’s new lawyer was able to create so many doubts in the minds of the Schöffen (lay judges), that they voted in favor of his client and she was set free immediately. Marianne Wagner was re-sentenced to life in a third proceeding, which had come about due to a revision of the prosecutor. But she'd been out of prison for almost two years between the trials. Maybe he was able to buy Claire (and himself!) some time? A time he could use to find new facts and arguments for an acquittal. 

 

(”Agenda 12 mesi MOLESKINE nera Design in Italy“ * By Pava   
[CC BY-SA 3.0 it ( [https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/it/deed.en](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0%2Fit%2Fdeed.en&t=MWVmZmY4ZTViNGMwNTI1ZWNkYTMzYTczN2MwYTZjYWU1YzliYmQ0NSxZSmdIeWwzbg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F178868502350%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-10-the-bloody&m=1) )], from Wikimedia Commons)  


         Jamie stopped and hurried back to the table. When he sat down again, he took the notebook, opened a new page and wrote down the word: "Piles to hammer in.” Underneath he wrote: "1. Doubts about the ‘murder weapon’; 2. Marianne Wagner Case; 3. Doubts about the bloodstains". He closed the book, reached for the remainder of his second sandwich, and devoured it with one bite. After one last sip of Pepsi, he got up and picked up his things. He wanted nothing more than to drive home, take a hot shower and then go to bed early. He needed his sleep. Already during his studies at the university, he had found that he had the most significant successes with Thomas Edison's method of problem-solving: Relaxing and giving your mind free rein was the best way to get closer to solving a case.

         He took the plate and carried it to the kitchen. Then he filled Adso's empty bowls once more with dry food and water. When the cat, who had followed him into the kitchen, stroked around his legs, he stroked him reassuringly. Then he quickly disappeared from the kitchen, took his briefcase and closed the front door behind him, before a greedy Adso, who had turned to the food in his bowl, could even notice.

* * *

 

**_**Thank you for reading.  Next time, read: Secret Whitsun holidays on Rügen (4): Sharing joy and sorrow (2)** _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Ezekiel 3: 8-9; (translated from the German translation by Hermann Menge by myself)


	11. Secret Whitsun holidays on Rügen (4): Sharing joy and sorrow (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie spend their first hours together on the island of Rügen.

(”Düne” by [wasi1370](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fnatur-strand-d%25C3%25BCne-himmel-3233915%2F&t=NTkzZTYwMGUwODcyNGEwM2NmNWRkMTNjMDU0YmFlN2ZlZjQ4NGFiZixiMWMwNWU4ODRmOGNlMWZmOTM5NDg0Y2Y3OGJmMDQwZjBlNzNiOTQw))

 

       When Claire finally sat down on the sofa and poured coffee into the two cups, Jamie carried the transport box with Adso into the bathroom and opened the small grid. The cat carefully stuck his head out, but when he saw the box with the cat litter, he was unstoppable. Only a few moments later he had overcome the short distance and sat down on the cat litter. Jamie, who had knelt by the transport box, got up cautiously, left the bathroom, and leaned the door against its frame. Back in the living room area, he grabbed the transport box with Bismarck and carried it to the front door. There he opened the grid and an unstoppable dachshund raced out. But the little bundle of energy did not get far. Too strong was the urge of his bladder to empty itself. After that happened, Jamie grabbed Bismarck by the neck, cleaned him with a small damp towel that he had taken out with him and carried him back into the house. Claire was still sitting on the sofa.

         "Watch what happens next,“ Jamie said. Then he put Bismarck on a vast round dog cushion that he had brought from the car and spread out near the coffee table. The dog made himself comfortable immediately. He turned on his back and stretched out all four legs. Then he rolled back onto his stomach and sniffed around in various places with his long characteristic dachshund nose. At that moment Adso appeared at the entrance to the living area. For a few seconds, he watched what was going on the gray large cushion. Then he approached it carefully. Bismarck had noticed him and now wagged his tail joyfully. Adso came even closer. He stopped a few inches from the dog cushion. His tail moved too. However, it was not a joyful wagging, but a slow-tossing that showed tension and belligerence. Jamie had sat down next to Claire, watching her focusing entirely on the animals. Without realizing it, she had advanced to the edge of her seat.

         "Jamie!” she whispered excitedly. But there was no time to ask him to do anything. “Shush!” he answered in a whisper. Then he put his right arm around her shoulders and held her gently. “Just watch it.” Carefully he pulled her to him and with that a little more back to the seat.

         Adso had now brought his body into a cowering posture and watched Bismarck, who, suspecting no evil, looked at the cat while still wagging his tail happily. Because of his rolling around on the pillow some minutes ago, his two long ear-flaps were folded back, giving his clumsy demeanor an even more lubberly look. Adso’s tail was still swinging slowly, revealing the tension under which his remaining body was. Suddenly he jumped forward and with only one paw pushed the puppy’s head onto the pillow. Bismarck lost his balance and his whole body rolled on his back. Quickly, however, he was able to straighten his hind legs. While his head was still pressed onto the pillow by Adso, Bismarck managed to straighten up his remaining body as well. He brought his hind legs close to the cat’s body and pushed it off the pillow with a single, powerful push of his little buttock. But Adso did not give up and immediately attacked again. He jumped against Bismarck’s neck with his fore-paws. The force of the jump threw the puppy back on the pillow. But again he straightened his hind legs and tried to push the cat off the pillow. However, this time he didn’t succeed. Nevertheless, Adso seemed to give up for a moment. He backed away, only to make a quick return, then jumped full-on Bismarck’s head and neck. Again, the dog tried to sit up with his hind legs. But in vain! Not only did the cat squeeze his fore-body on the pillow, but he also began playfully biting him. He had selected the ears and the back of the neck as targets for his sharp teeth. This renewed attack of the cat brought Bismarck into a rage. He kicked the cat’s body with all the strength in his hind legs. But Adso seemed to take no notice. Bismarck’s defenses left him unimpressed. After a few moments, he backed away again, only to bite Bismarck elsewhere.

         The wrestling of the two opponents lasted for almost half an hour. Claire watched the animals with increasing enthusiasm. Every now and then she giggled or shook her head. Jamie, who had poured her and himself another coffee, handed her a plate with a piece of the Italian lemon cake he had bought from Luigi. Without taking her eyes off the playing animals, she took the piece of cake and bit into it.

         "Hmm, delicious!“

         She looked at Jamie and smiled at him.

         "I’m glad you like it.”

         "Yes, I like it very much.“

         Claire set the plate down and reached for her coffee cup. Meanwhile, the hustle and bustle on the dog cushion continued.

(”Kaffee” by [silverstrike24](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fkaffee-couchtisch-sofa-leder-buch-1403969%2F&t=NTJiZTE4YTQxZDNmYjU5YmUwZDcwNGUzMWNmYWFiMWY0MDEzMjQ3YiwwZjUxNTk0ZmVmMTU4MDI3OWY0ODIxYWQ3Y2RkNjFiOTZkM2IyMjI3))

         "Dorks,” she said.

         "Very lovable dorks,“ he answered.

         Claire, still staring at Jamie, nodded. She put down the coffee cup, then slid her right hand over his left cheek to his neck, pulled him close, and kissed him.

         "You knew, that …,” she said after she broke away from him.

         "What did I know?“ Jamie asked, trying to look unaware and wide-eyed.

         "That they are not hurting each other!”

         "Let’s put it this way: I’ve been training them to not hurt each other.“

         "How long has that been going on?”

         "Well, I started it shortly after I got Bismarck. Before Bismarck, I had another dachshund. He was already seven years old when I got him - out of an animal shelter. His name was ‘Brumm’. When he was about thirteen years old, he contracted what is called ‘Dackellähme’, dachshund paralysis in English.“

         "Dachshund paralysis?”

         "This is a common disease with dachshunds, but it also occurs with other breeds. It is triggered by a degeneration of the intervertebral discs. At an older age, it comes to pain and paralysis of the front and/or hind legs. Some animals also lose control of their bladder and/or intestine. Dogs with a long back and short legs, for example, Pekingese, Spaniel, and Bassets, but mainly Dachshunds are affected. The vet explained to me that the spine of these dogs is exposed to high pressure due to their special physique. This often leads to damage to the intervertebral discs. Besides, some breeds also tend to early calcification and thus a loss of elasticity of the intervertebral discs, which can accelerate the occurrence of the herniated disc. Brumm had behaved well for his age, but, as I said, at the age of thirteen he, unfortunately, got it. The vet treated him for some time with painkilling and anti-inflammatory medications. But at some point, it was clear that it would only prolong his suffering. So one day, I went with him to the vet and let him put the dog to sleep. His grave is near the small path that leads to the lake, between the firs there.“

         Claire saw that Jamie could not entirely hide his sadness about losing his longtime four-legged companion. She took his right hand in her hands and stroked it gently.

         "And then came Bismarck?”

         "Yes, then came the little prince who sleeps there on the pillow.“

         Jamie nodded toward the dog. The puppy, exhausted from wrestling with the cat, was lying on his right side, his little legs stretched far away from him. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell with great regularity.

         "He looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.”

         "Don’t be fooled. Remember, he’s a dragon in disguise.“

         "Would you like to tell me how you got him? Is Bismarck also from a shelter?” Claire asked while still stroking his hand with her thumb.

         "No, I bought him from a breeder. In the [Spreewald](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FSpreewald&t=OTJlOWJkYjk2NzAzNzE4YjUzZTljNDFmYjZkMGY1Zjc2OTA2MmY3ZixmNDU4NTUwZDBiZjA4ZjU1MDRlZWFmYTkzNjYyNjAzYTBhYjI4YmI2), there is a couple that maintains a small Dachshund breed. I had heard about it from a worker at the shelter.“

          _"Spreewald?”_

(”Spreewald” by [herbert2512](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fspreewald-l%25C3%25BCbbenau-deutschland-2748204%2F&t=ZjdhNmZlNjQ0ZjJjMDc2YjIyYWY0NTcyNDRmZmE1MjA3NTNjYjg0ZCw3Njc0Zjk5YTc0NmUwMmJjNjk0NjE3ZjNmYTZkZWVmYTI3MGZlZmJi))

 

         "An alluvial and moor landscape in Brandenburg, about 100 kilometers from Berlin … south-east of Berlin to be precise. It is protected as a biosphere reserve and has been the settlement area of the [Sorbs](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FSorbs&t=Y2FkODRjYTQ1Njg1MzJmNTE5YzQ4MDZmMDc1ODkzYmNhMjgyMWExZixkNzI2ZDlmY2JhZGM5NmViNTQ1M2NlYWNlOWFiMmQ3NjlhMGIyNDZh) for many centuries. The Spreewald cucumbers come from there!“

         Claire looked at him questioningly.

         ” _Spreewald cucumbers?_ Never heard of …“

         He looked at her in surprise.

         "I … um … do not eat cucumbers that often …” she said and shrugged.

         "Ahh, we have to go there for a weekend!“

          _"To eat cucumbers?!”_

         Claire grimaced in a mixture of amusement and panic.

         "No, not because of the cucumbers! We can buy some at the supermarket around the next corner. No, no. The landscape is unique. Everywhere there are canals, but also forest. And you can go by barge through the canals, just experiencing the wonderful fauna and flora. It’s like a … wooded Venice! Only much calmer and not overrun by tourists.“

         Jamie’s enthusiasm made Claire smile. She could just imagine how he was already making plans for a trip together in his mind.

         "You wanted to tell me how you found Bismarck …” she carefully led him back to her original topic.

         "Exactly,“ he said with a smile, and continued:

         "Several weeks after Brumm died, I went to the shelter. I wanted to pick up a dachshund again. But they only had dogs of other breeds at this time. One of the staff members gave me the address and phone number of the breeder in the Spreewald. I called him and learned that a few weeks earlier they had had a puppy litter. Some of the animals were already taken and the breeder asked me to come over as soon as possible so that I still had the choice. So I drove there the following weekend. The house of the family is located in a small spruce forest near Barzin. The breeder led me into his living room and there they were lying on a blanket near the heater: six dachshund puppies snuggled into each other. They were just six weeks old. Three of them were already taken and I had the choice among the other three. I took that little guy.” Jamie nodded in the direction of the dog cushion, “on to my left hand and looked at him. I liked him a lot. Suddenly he began to whimper and then I felt something warm on my hand. That tiny rascal had emptied his bladder.”

 

“Six sleeping dachshund puppies, 41 days old” by Richard Huber - Eigenes Werk, CC-BY 4.0,   
[https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=62546000  
](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FDatei%3ARauhaardackelwelpen_5_Wochen.jpg%23%2Fmedia%2FFile%3ARauhaardackelwelpen_5_Wochen.jpg&t=ZWE4MTM1MmY3M2IyMWQwZDNlNjQzNzdlODRmOTdlOTUzNGM5ZmMyNCwxNDU3MGU2MGYxOGQ4YjA3NDc3ZmIyNWNjMGQ1MzdlNzIwYWJlNzgz)

         Jamie rolled his eyes and Claire had to suppress a loud laugh.

         "I then looked at the breeder and said, 'I’ll take that dirty one!’ Yep, and when he was twelve weeks old, I went there again and picked him up. That was two month after I accepted your mandate. Now he is with me for four months. In the beginning, I took him everywhere. Except when I had to go to court or to jail for trials or meetings. Then I left him either with Tessa or Ned.“

          _"Tessa?”_ Clair asked, her voice sounded shrill. Biting her tongue at the same moment, she cursed her nervous voice.

         "Tessa Lüttgenjohann. She is my secretary.“

         "Ah yes.”

         Claire nodded and Jamie noticed that she looked a bit more relaxed after his explanation.

         "He was so small. I had to take him to the office with me. If I was in court or had another appointment that I could not take with him, she would take care of him. Sometimes Ned stepped in, an older colleague. I will introduce you to all of them - if you want …“

         "Oh yes, I … would really like to get to know them.”

         "Well, then, after taking on your case, I had to take care of Adso, too.“

         "And you didn’t tell me for a long time, _you bloody Scot._ The whole time I thought that Mrs. Fritz cared for him … ”

         "So, whenever I went to you to feed Adso, then, of course, I took Bismarck with me. I thought it would be good for the cat not to be alone all the time. In the beginning, it was a bit chaotic. Bismarck always wanted to play with Adso and was completely unconscious that the cat was a different animal. Adso, on the other hand, felt disturbed and saw the dog as an intruder. He drove his claws several times over the puppy’s nose. Bismarck did not stop whimpering and it cost me many dog drops to comfort him. But at some point, they got used to each other and apparently, Adso noticed that neither I nor Bismarck would leave his life soon. So he resigned and decided it was better to have fun with us.”

         Jamie smiled as if he had won the weekly lottery jackpot.  

         “That gave me time and peace to work on your case. When the two wrestled with each other, I did not have to take care of them, and afterward, they both were exhausted and slept for quite a time. “

         Again, he smiled mischievously.

 

(”Katze” by [user:12019](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fkatze-haustier-tier-schlafen-1903024%2F&t=Y2JmOTAwODQzNjdmOTA4Zjk3M2IxNjg4ZDI0YjdmOWRhNWQ3N2I0OCw5N2Q1MTY4ZDMxNzNkODYyMzY3N2IxNTYzNzRlMWUwZDMxYWY5MzBj))

 

         Adso, who had jumped on one of the window sills after wrestling with Bismarck, lolled comfortably in the warm afternoon sunshine. Claire looked at  him and said:

         "I think I’ll take a little nap, too.”

         "Do that. I’ll clear the table and then sit down with you.“

         Jamie got up and handed Claire a light blanket and a small pillow. Before he had carried the dishes into the kitchen, she had stretched on the sofa and closed her eyes. When he returned, he could hear her breathing deeply and evenly. He put a bottle of mineral water on the table, then took a book from his briefcase and sat down in one of the big armchairs. From there he could watch the animals and Claire.

         "Dog stories,” he thought, “what a profound topic of conversation.” He would have liked to discuss much deeper things with her, but he knew he needed to be patient. Claire needed rest. She needed a break from the events of the last few months. He had to take it easy. He had to go on slowly, not to scare her away. Too precious was the gift he had received. This beautiful, amazing woman. Jamie reached into his briefcase again and pulled out a black leather calendar with his initials. After scrolling through it, he reached for his smartphone and began to write an e-mail to Tessa Lüttgenjohann.

* * *

 

**_Thank you for reading. Next time, read: “A war on two fronts”_ **


	12. The Two-Front War begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the criminal charges against Claire reach the public and Jamie is busy to prepare her defense, a second opposing front is opened in the battle for her freedom.

“JVA Moabit” by G.Elser [CC BY 3.0  ([https://creativecommons.org](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org&t=YWUyOTAwZmYzMWJkZmMyOWQ4ZDZmYWE1Y2FmNGI0OGQ0NzBkMTFiZixBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1) / licenses / by / 3.0)], [via Wikimedia Commons](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3AJVA_Moabit_-_panoramio_-_G.Elser.jpg&t=MGMyY2M5NmRmZGNjMWMzZmE0NzhjNGUzZmIzNGJmNGFlYzUyZTA2YyxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1)

 

**Six months ago - Second Attorney’s Visit to Prison, just two days after the first one**

         At around 2:30 pm their conversation was over. For ninety minutes he had spoken to Claire about the prosecution’s charges and arguments. Jamie had also asked her those questions that had come to his mind when reviewing the photo folders. She couldn’t answer all his questions satisfactory. But it seemed to him as if finally some pieces of the puzzle fell together and gave a – at least little bit – clearer picture.  

         Since it didn’t seem that the court would release Claire from prison soon, there was another issue to discuss: someone had to take care of her personal business affairs. Bills and taxes had to be paid. Jamie had brought a few letters from Claire’s mailbox. These included an invoice for the annual property tax and the annual sewage tax. Before he went to prison, he first visited the judge responsible for controlling Claire’s mail. RiLG (Judge at the District Court) Füssel was a friendly elderly gentleman with a bald head. Jamie already knew him from other court hearings in which he took part as an associate judge. Otto Füssel was not a very tall man. But when this man appeared in the courtroom, dressed in velvet-collared judge’s robe and with a massive gold signet ring on his right hand, his demeanor was marked by professionalism and dignity. When he interviewed a defendant, expert, or witness, his gaze often wandered over the edges of his golden glasses. This look clearly showed how closely he followed a statement. Whether he believed the person or not, however, his eyes did not reveal. Jamie had noticed that RiLG Füssel was one of the most punctual judges. While other judges were still sitting in the canteen, he was already standing in front of the consulting room next to the courtroom. Then, at frequent intervals, he looked at the dial of his pocket watch. In Jamie’s heart, a small hope grew. Knowing that this man was one of those who would finally decide on Claire’s fate gave him a kind of peace. Even if Judge Füssel was only one of five decision-makers who had to be convinced of Claire’s innocence. In one thing, Jamie was sure: This man was incorruptible and would make his decision solely in accordance with the law.  
         Jamie had asked at the court registry for the judge’s room number and was happy to hand out the letters to him just minutes later.  After reviewing the papers Judge Füssel had issued an injunction authorizing the defendant’s lawyer to take these letters to prison with him.  

         Who should take care of her business matters while Claire was in prison? Jamie had offered to take care of the personal business affairs of _“his client” (_ as he had called it). Claire had not thought of these things yet. The sudden arrest and the ensuing indictment, with all its consequences, had put her in a state she could only compare to an endless fall, as she had experienced it in the repetitive nightmares of her childhood. There was this sudden feeling of falling from a very high place to the ground. But there was no final impact, only an endless fall, and an endless fear. She longed for the impact because one knew that then the fear also would be over. But the final impact never came. Only the fear stayed. For Claire, it felt like she fell for days now. And it seemed that she should be deprived of the mercy of the final impact for a very long time to come.

         At first, Claire hesitated. But who, if not her lawyer, could do those things for her? Joe was a busy surgeon with little free time and Gail had no idea about the – incredible annoying - German bureaucracy. There were still her few other friends … But none of them was so familiar to her that she wanted to ask for such a favor. Whoever would do these things for her would get a deep insight into her personal life. Did she trust Dr. Fraser? To be attracted by the impressive appearance and charm of a person like him was one thing. But trusting _a man_ was an entirely different matter. Did she _really_ want that? Did she want _this man_ to get even more insight into her life? 

        Time was short and Claire made a decision. She chose to trust him for his profession, not because she trusted in his person. How many people had undergone risky treatment of injuries or disorders of their bodies in her operating room for emergency surgery? People who had not even had a minute of time to get to know her? They had been pushed into the EOR and then had to trust her words, even though they had never seen Dr. Claire Randall before. They had to trust her and they _had trusted_ her, just because she was _the doctor_ in charge. If her patients could give her this trust because of her profession, then she could do the same with Jamie. But more was not possible. Not at this moment. She grabbed the pen he held out to her. After a deep breath, she signed the papers that would not only authorize him to access her accounts but also gave him the authority to handle all her personal affairs on her behalf.

 

“A solitary cell in the correctional facility Wuppertal-Ronsdorf, Germany” by Morty  
[GFDL ( [http://www.gnu.org](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.gnu.org&t=ODdiZjg2NTBkMjJjMjBkZWY0MjRjNjRiZTcyM2M4MWY1MmZlNDMzYSxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1) / copyleft / fdl.html) or CC BY 3.0  
( [https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby%2F3.0&t=YjFiZDJkZGNmNGI0ZTlmNWRiMzFlYjNjZDY0MmQyM2E4NmM5ZjA3YSxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1) )], [via Wikimedia Commons](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fupload.wikimedia.org%2Fwikipedia%2Fcommons%2Fe%2Fe5%2FJVA_Wuppertal-Ronsdorf_Einzelzelle.bmp.jpg&t=ODg4OTg5YjQxMmMyM2NiNTg1YWYzMDBhOTIwYTdmMjRhNGI2NGM3OCxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1) 

 

         Shortly afterward he had said goodbye. A female law enforcement officer had taken her back to her cell. After the cell door closed behind her, Claire lay down on the bed and pulled the blanket over her body. She felt lonely, helpless and exposed. Also, she felt a tremendous inner fatigue. After turning to the wall, Claire closed her eyes. She wished she could sleep and dream - and that she would finally experience the mercy of the impact. But this wish would remain unfulfilled on this day.  

         Jamie had had a hard time saying goodbye to Claire. He would have liked to hug her, but such a behavior would have been utterly inappropriate. After all, they only had a lawyer-client relationship. So he just took her hand and held it for a moment too long … Then one of the law enforcement officers came to take him to the exit. Again they went through long, bald corridors. Again, countless doors were opened and closed, leaving Claire behind them. Suddenly, the coordination of his steps felt complicated, very complicated. Deep inside he felt torn. His head knew he could not help her here. He knew he had to leave the prison and work _‘outside’_  to free her. But his heart told him at every step that it would linger behind these doors and walls. With every burst of blood it blew through his veins, it told him that it would stay behind them, even if his body had to leave the building now.  

         At some point, he realized that he was in the entrance area. Again he had to pass through the security gate and was examined for prohibited items. He was then handed back his smartphone, that he had to leave with the officers at the reception when he entered the prison. Jamie put it in the pocket of his jacket and left the building.  

         He needed rest and time to think about everything Claire had told him the last 90 minutes and in their extended conversation on his second visit.  

         Her initial situation was not good. From the viewpoint of the prosecutor, the persistent humiliation by her husband would be an essential motive for Claire to kill Frank Randall. If the prosecution could convince the court of their version of the incident, then Claire would be threatened with [a verdict that could put her in prison for at least 15 years](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.gesetze-im-internet.de%2Fenglisch_stgb%2Fenglisch_stgb.html%23p1808&t=YzhiYzE5ZDBjNTdjMzI1OWE2MDdiNGZhYWMzODI2MTdiOWJhOWZkYixBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1). If she had 'great luck’, then a psychological expert’s opinion would attest that according to § § [20](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.gesetze-im-internet.de%2Fenglisch_stgb%2Fenglisch_stgb.html%23p0133&t=MTFmOWJiN2ViYmRmMjZiZWU1MTYxNDllNmU5OWMwZGRkZDBmNTkxYSxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1), [21](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.gesetze-im-internet.de%2Fenglisch_stgb%2Fenglisch_stgb.html%23p0135&t=ZGYyOWVmODNkOGNkMjRhM2I5NTJhZjY4NGM5ZTY0YjY2YTYwM2E2MSxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1) StGB ( **St** raf **g** esetz **b** uch; German Criminal Code) ‘the accused lacked the criminal responsibility because of mental disorders at the time the crime happened’. That would mean she did not have to go to prison. According to [§ 63 StGB](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.gesetze-im-internet.de%2Fenglisch_stgb%2Fenglisch_stgb.html%23p0421&t=ZjZiZDFiZTdmZTYwZmY2NWFjNGVhZDBiNWZjYzQzNWI0NmU3NjdhNCxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1) she would be put in a forensic psychiatric institution for an undefined period of time. These were not really good prospects. For Jamie, nothing but an acquittal was worth to be considered. He knew that both prison or psychiatry would leave a harm in Claire’s soul, a harm that might never be healed. He would have to discuss the case with other experienced colleagues in the firm the coming days … But for now, he had to clear his mind and switch off. Besides, from his stomach came up again a growling and reminded him that the time for lunch was already far exceeded.

 

 “BMW automobile dashboard” by David Adam Kess, BMW MADRID 2016    
[CC BY-SA 4.0  ( [https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F4.0&t=OTZmNmQ5NDllZWIyNTM0NjIzYmYwNDI5YzE3N2QwNTFiNjliNzE0MSxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1) )], [via Wikimedia Commons](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3A%2522_%28a_picture_by_david_adam_kess%2C_pic.a164.jpg&t=ZmMzNWQ2MzBkYjA5NWZhOGUxOGRlMzczYjhkZjk4OWRkOGQ3NTcxZSxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1)

 

         It took him a great deal of effort to move his body from the entrance of the prison to his car. When he finally sat in the driver’s seat, he pulled out the smartphone and connected it via MirrorLink with the media display to the right of the steering wheel. Immediately he was informed about the number of missed calls. He had been called thirteen times. Jamie decided to ignore these messages and started the car.  

         He drove toward downtown and stopped in front of a cafe. There he bought some sandwiches and a large coffee “to go”. Back in the car, he called Tessa Lüttgenjohann. Apart from a few non-urgent pleadings, a large number of calls have been received by his secretary. Journalists from a wide range of German print and online media, as well as editorial staff from German and foreign news channels, had called and asked about _Dr. Fraser’s latest case_. Tessa had dismissed all questions and stated that “Fraser, Gowan  & Coll.” would answer only e-mail inquiries. But neither BBC, CNN nor [ARD](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ard.de%2Fhome%2Fard%2Fguide-for-refugees-wegweiser-fuer-fluechtlinge%2FInformation_in_English%2F2214410%2Findex.html&t=ZTZhNDgxN2YwM2QyN2ZlYjk0MWM4MjBjNDAzOTBkMjU1MGNkYTc5ZCxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1), [ZDF](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.zdf.de%2Finternational%2Fzdfenglish&t=ODJiNjkzMjU0MWQzNjcxYzQ0MzI3MTMzOTkwNGE0NTYyNzUwNmM0MixBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1), [ORF](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Foe1.orf.at%2Fenglish&t=NjAwYzIxMmNhY2Y5ZGIxYmEzYTFhZmZmYjc0OGJjNGIyMDZhYzcxMixBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1), [SRF](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.srf.ch%2F&t=ZmE3YzNjMmE1ZTA4YmUxMWRkNjBmZDA4ZGIwOWUxNDE5YTY4MThiMSxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1), [RT](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.rt.com%2F&t=ZTY5NmE0MjNhMTFkZWNhODNjMzE2Y2JkOWMxYTk4MzgxZTdiMTIzZixBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1), [RTL](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Ftoday.rtl.lu%2F&t=ZmI1MmFmMWFhYmM4ZTk0MjY4OTAzYjhmOTJhMDVlMDg2NmRiZDU2ZCxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1), [SPON](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.spiegel.de%2Finternational%2F&t=NzU4ZGU1NDAwNTAyMjllNzk2MjNlNjEzYTdhYTM5MzQyNjNkYmQ1MSxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1), [SZ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fprojekte.sueddeutsche.de%2Fartikel%2Fdigital%2Fsz-international-e366019%2F&t=OTNiMDJhNmNhOTg4MTJkMjM2Zjg3OTI2ZGRiMDVkZTdkMGM0ZmJlNyxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1), and others had been put off by it. At half-hourly intervals, they had called again, every time using another employee of their company. Tessa had quickly understood the rules of this game and immediately started hanging up whenever a journalist even started to say his or her name. At some point, people realized that _Mrs. Lüttgenjohann_  had to be taken seriously. Then, finally, she had been able to get back to regular day-to-day business. Jamie thanked her and said, that he would work on _the Beauchamp case_  for the rest of the day. She should contact him via his mobile phone, if necessary (but inwardly he hoped that this would not happen). He then started the car to drive to Claire’s apartment.  

         Jamie tried to concentrate on the traffic, but his thoughts kept turning in other directions. He knew that he should be sitting in his office and working through some case files by now. But he also knew that he would not do that anyway. If he had driven to the law firm, he would stand before the window facade of his office, looking over to [the Victory Column at the Great Star](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FGro%25C3%259Fer_Stern&t=OGNkNGViOTkzMzI2Nzk2ODRkMjA2NjBiZDdlNGMyYWU0MWUyNTU4ZSxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1), and think of Claire …  

         Twenty minutes later he reached her house at Candestraße 17. Just as he parked his car, a text message appeared on CarPlay: “Call! Me! Now! Immediately!” The device informed him, that the sender of this intrusive message was a person by the name of “David de Koning”. Jamie paused, closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath. The media. The tabloids. He could have known. He _should_ have known. They would, no, they had opened a second front against his client. _Against Claire._ Against the woman he loved. And they knew no mercy. The media of the present knew only sales figures, viewer numbers, clicks! That was their highest, indeed their only goal. Numbers. Everything else was subordinated to them. Whether people were harmed in any way, they didn’t care. It didn’t matter. In recent years, journalistic ethics in this country had lost 'one game after another’ against _the numbers._ The more the number of the subscribers went down, the more lurid the headlines became. Even newspapers, which were once called 'quality media’ and had been the backbone of serious journalism, had been unable to escape this downward spiral. _'At the end of the day’_ , only those things counted that brought in money and made the shareholders happy.  

         Jamie knew that in the war for Claire’s freedom, a second front had just been opened. While at the front, where the prosecution fought him, the weapons of hard facts and circumstantial evidence were used, the warriors on the media front used even more dangerous weapons. There would be speculations. There would be conspiracy theories. But worst of all would be the prejudices that would hit the readers, listeners, and viewers via the headlines. How many times had he experienced it in other criminal cases! Claire’s case was more spectacular than many other cases he had worked on in his professional life. Sure, the confrontation with the media in her case would be much harder.  

         A “two-front war”, that was the lesson of history, was hard to win and mostly lost. He, they, needed allies. David de Koning was a journalist and thus belonged to the battle line of the media. But David de Koning was also a friend. Jamie tapped his smartphone so that the contact list opened, then tapped on de Koning’s name and the phone dialed the number.  

         "U-Turn. You’re talking to David de Koning,“ a voice answered shortly after that.  

         "Hi, Chief! My smartphone whispers to me that you are longing for me?”  

         "Jamie! Finally! Man, we have to talk about your latest case! Urgent! The news agencies of the city, yeah of the country, are running hot and the office of the prosecution spread the information that they want to issue a detailed press release in the coming days.“  

         "Mmmpfhmmmm!”  

         Jamie swallowed the curse that lay on his tongue.  

         "That’s it, my friend.“  

         "What do you want, David?”  

         "I want to help you, Jamie. If all the information that’s been leaked from the police and the judiciary about the _‘Dr. C. B. case’_ right now, then you’ve got a … well, let’s say… a case that will cause a stir. A young, pretty and rich doctor from the Grunewald slays her much older, annoying professor-spouse. Boy, that’s what’s called _a story_! And that is probably one of the kinder headlines you and your client will have to face the next months. I can imagine that she will be called 'The murderess from the Grunewald’. When she cries in court, she is called ‘crocodile tears killer’. If she shows no emotion, she is said to be an icy black widow like [Melissa Ann Shepard](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FMelissa_Ann_Shepard&t=OGRmYmRhOWU0ODc4NzcyOWM3NjU5NDkyMDM4Y2JkOTc3NDlmNTNhNixBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1). And then it adds that it is _a foreign couple_ , we speak of. That makes the whole thing even more interesting for many people here. And if it’s true what my sources say about the amount of blood that was shed … Man, Jamie, that sounds almost like a German version of the _bloodbath of Perugia!_ Is your beautiful new client possibly an icy killer like [Amanda Knox](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FAmanda_Knox&t=OTM5ZThlNjM2NTUxN2NkODg2Nzg3ZTQ1YjVkMjViMzk4ZTI2NmJiMCxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1)? Just a few years older?”

 

(“Kaffeehaus” by [jpeter2](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fwien-kaffeehaus-kultur-kaffe-647328%2F&t=NTZlNjM4M2I4MzYxNTA1ZDE0YmI2NTdlNWIzYTNhNjEzNDgxYWZmMyxBcTg2dXIyUA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179388992545%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-12-the&m=1))

 

         "Amanda Knox was acquitted.“  

         "Exactly. After an eight-year trial and four years in prison. Would your client stand such a long procedure? You’re in the business long enough, Jaime. Come on, buddy! _You know_ how it works. If you want to protect your client, you have to take the initiative - now.”  

         Jamie was silent for a moment. Then he said:  

         "What do you want for your help, you journalistic Samaritan?“  

         Now David de Koning was silent.  

         "Tell me!”  

         "Jamie, you know, U-Turn is a whole new platform. I too have to pay my employees  … they have families, rents to pay … “  

         "David! Get! It! Out! Now!”  

         "An exclusive interview and we are the first news platform you contact when it comes to _any new information_. Do you understand? Any! New! Information! _Minimum_ two hours before everybody else gets something from you.“  

         "OK. Plus _we_ sue everybody who spreads wrong information about my client.”  

         "Gladly, my friend.“  

         "All right, then we have a deal. Even if I do not know yet, how I will explain _that_ to my client. ”  

         "I cannot help you with that, my friend.“  

         They were silent for a moment, and Jamie took a sip of his coffee, which, he noted moodily, was now lukewarm.  

         "When can we meet and where?” David de Koning asked.  

         "Not today. I barely had time to dig into the case. How about tomorrow in the early evening? At the 'Vienna’?“  

         "Too much people there. If we go there, half of Berlin will know.”  

         "What about 'Ferenc’?“  

         "You really want to eat a Wiener Schnitzel, don’t you?”  

         “No, I just don’t want to drive too far. Besides, their side room has a gallery where I could reserve a table.”  

         "That’s a good idea. What about 6 pm?“  

         "Yes. But I have no’ more time than an hour. I have to go home soon after.”  

         "Well, well, well!. Have you finally found a girl of whom I don’t know anything yet?“  

         "No, just a lot of work.”  

         "OK.“  

         "Shall I order a table for 6 pm?”  

         "Yes, do that. I’m coming.“  

         "Well. See you tomorrow.”  

         "See you tomorrow, Jamie, and take good care of yourself.“  

         "Thanks, I’ll do my best.”  

         Jamie pressed 'Quit’ and took one last pull out of his coffee mug. Then he called Tessa Lüttgenjohann and told her to book a certain table at the restaurant 'Ferenc’ for the next evening. He also asked her, to call the office of Prof. Dr. Simon Nerz to arrange a phone conference in the next few days with _'Germany’s most important lawyer for press law’_ (as the media called Nerz).

* * *

**_As always: Thank you for reading and the comments you left. If you have questions, just sent me a DM or put it in the comments. You are very welcome :) - Next time, read: The Murderess from the Grunewald (13): Secret Whitsun holidays on Rügen (5): Sharing joy and sorrow (3)_ **

 


	13. Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (5): Sharing Joy and Sorrow (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Jamie prepares dinner, Claire takes a short walk to the beach. But while she enjoys her regained freedom, she is caught by her past with Frank.
> 
> Please notice: This chapter contains the description of sexual violence. If this triggers something in you, please skip this chapter.

** (”Rügen” by  [O12](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fsonnenuntergang-meer-wasser-r%25C3%25BCgen-3681425%2F&t=ODZiNTg0ZjU3MzEyYmU5ZTkxOWJjMTk1MmUyOGFlODhiOTc0NTQ3Zix5M1BNbWR2OQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179988073025%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-13-secret&m=1) )   **

 

**Saturday of the Whitsun weekend 2020, one day after Claire’s dismissal from prison**

         It was already dark outside when Clair woke up. But she didn’t notice that immediately. The first thing that entered her mind as she slowly returned from the depths of sleep to the state of wakefulness was the feeling of silky fur on her feet. At some point during the afternoon, Adso had left his seat on the windowsill. Slowly he had gone to the sofa where Claire was sleeping. In a moment when he was sure none of those present (i.e. Jamie and Bismarck) watched him, he had silently jumped onto the sofa and slid beneath Claire’s feet under the blanket Jamie had spread over her some time ago. There he had curled up and then fell into his well-known sleep mode.  
         Claire stretched her arms and legs and finally opened her eyes. Candlesticks with burning candles stood on the table and in some other places, illuminating the room. Jamie must have set them up and lit them while she slept. She raised her head and began to rub her eyes. Jamie, who had been sitting in one of the armchairs, noticed her awakening with a smile. He left his seat and sat down in front of the sofa.       

         "Well rested?“ he whispered softly. 

         "Hmhm,” she answered.   
  
         Then she stretched again and this time she had forgotten that Adso was still asleep at her feet. The cat gave a few disturbing sounds and jumped off the sofa. Jamie and Claire watched him with a grin. After he had reoriented, Adso wandered into the dining area and jumped on one of the chairs at the dining table. He curled up and continued his sleep.   
  
         "Do you want something to drink? I made tea.“   
  
         Only now did Claire notice that there was a warmer and a teapot on the coffee table in front of the couch.   
  
         "Gladly." 

         Jamie got up and filled two cups of tea.  
    
         "Biscuit?”

         "Hm, what do we have for biscuits?“ Clair asked, straightening up.   
  
         "Azora Orange! What else?”   
  
         Jamie rolled his eyes, then handed her a cup. She took them in both hands and took in its scent.  
    
         "Assam Mokalbari. I hope that was right?“   
  
         "Hmmm.”   
  
         She thanked him with a beaming smile that showed Jamie that he had made the right choice. For a more in-depth discussion of his choice of tea, Claire was neither able nor willing. Not at the moment. She closed her eyes, sucked the scent of the tea into her nose again and drank. Then she reached for the biscuits. 

 

(”Tee” by  [RondellMelling](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Ftee-tasse-teetasse-porzellan-dekor-2130969%2F&t=N2QwYzUxNGZmNWNjYmRhMjRlMjVjNGRkMTcxNmQ3YzkyZGJmZTAzOSx5M1BNbWR2OQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179988073025%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-13-secret&m=1) ) 

         "Are you hungry?“   
  
         "Hmm.”  
  
         "I can make dinner. You only have to tell me what you want to eat.“  
  
         "How long have I been sleeping?”  
  
         "Three hours. It’s just after 7 pm.“  
  
         "Oh! So long?”   
  
         "Don’t worry! We are on vacation. Nobody expects anything from you and obviously, your body needed sleep.“   
  
         Claire sighed. Then she took another sip from her cup. Jamie, who had sat down next to her on the sofa, saw that her cup was almost empty.   
  
         "Should I refill?”   
  
         "Hmhm.“   
  
         She held out the cup to him, which he refilled immediately.   
  
         "What do we have for dinner?”   
  
         "A whole selection! We have everything you need for a menu: Caprese, Bruschetta Italiana, Minestrone, Penne all'Arrabbiata, besides …“   
  
         "Well,” she interrupted him, “I think Caprese and Penne all'Arrabbiata are enough for me tonight.”   
  
         "Okay, then I’ll go to the kitchen.“   
  
         "Can I help you?”   
  
         "No, I can do that. Take a break.“   
  
         Claire let out another sigh. She was grateful that she could leave the city for a few days and take rest, but doing nothing was _‘not her thing’_.”  
  
         "Then maybe I’ll go for a walk.“   
  
         The sentence was more a question than an announcement. Jamie, who had gotten up and headed for the kitchen, noticed that Bismarck had left the dog cushion and followed him.  
  
         "That’s a good idea. You could take Bismarck with you. He can use the little walk and besides he does not bother me when cooking. But take him on the leash. It hangs on the wardrobe.”   
  
         "Good, I’ll just get a jacket.“   
  
         Claire got up and before he knew it, she had disappeared up the stairs to the first floor. Jamie went to the kitchen and Bismarck followed him. Shortly after that, Claire appeared, now in a thick cardigan and with the dog leash in her hand. Bismarck, eyes wide-eyed at each of Jamie’s handles in the kitchen, began to prance at the sight of the leash.  
  
         "Yes, we’re going for a walk, old boy!”   
  
         Jamie picked up the leash and tied it to Bismarck’s collar. Then he led the dog out of the kitchen, opened the front door and took a few steps into the yard. Once there, he handed Claire the leash and returned to the house with some quick steps. Bismarck, who had expected to accompany his master on a walk, looked at Claire wide-eyed. Then, searching and whimpering, he turned around.   
  
         "Come on Bismarck, we’ll do a little walk. Your master is busy and you have to be content with me.“   
  
         Then she held out one of the dog drops that Jamie had secretly given her on their way out. The dog snapped at it and chewed on it with pleasure. She pulled lightly on the leash. Bismarck followed, at first reluctantly. After a few minutes, however, he seemed to have surrendered to his fate. Or had the thirst for adventure and the spirit of discovery overcome his aversion to following someone else but Jamie? Claire didn’t know it and she didn’t care. She noticed with pleasure how the dog adjusted to her pace and quickly followed her lead while they went through the forest towards the coast. Every now and then, she turned on the flashlight Jamie had also given her. On their way through the forest belt, brushwood made their way difficult from time to time. But after about ten minutes they came to the edge of the forest and from there she could see the beach, enlightened by a full moon. Claire closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in the spicy air, concentrating on the sound of the surf. When she opened her eyes again, Claire could see a stone stairway at some distance leading down to the beach. They made their way there, and this time Bismarck immediately followed. After another ten minutes, they arrived at the stairs. Claire shone down the steps, then picked up Bismarck on her arm.  
  
         "Your legs are not long enough for those big steps, little prince." 

 

(”Rügen” by  [Wollzimmer](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fstrand-meer-sonne-r%25C3%25BCgen-ostsee-3552176%2F&t=Y2JkYTZkNDRiZTMxMDRlNzBjYjMxYmVkMmEyZGE0N2NjYmIzMDllMSx5M1BNbWR2OQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179988073025%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-13-secret&m=1) )

 

         When they arrived at the last step shortly afterward, she put the dog down again. Bismarck didn’t seem to know whether he should welcome his regained freedom or whether he would instead have returned to Claire’s warm and soft jacket-arm. But then he noticed some things around him and they caught his attention. He ran forward and this time Claire followed him. First, a larger piece of rotten wood on the beach needed extensive snooping. Then he pulled her to a small round piece that protruded a few yards out of the sand. When Claire turned the flashlight on, she realized that it was a shell buried in the sand. They continued their journey from discovery to discovery for about twenty minutes. Bismarck ahead, Claire right behind him. In addition to shells, Bismarck’s "discoveries” also included some old, empty bottles, a short piece of rope, various old branches and bits of wood, and a yellow plastic sand cake mold. Indeed, a child had forgotten it here. The shape had the appearance of a starfish, sticking out of the sand with only its tip. Bismarck had spotted the part and, when he realized he couldn’t just pull it out of the damp sand with his teeth, started digging for it. Amazed, Claire watched him as his small, nimble forelegs exposed more and more of the sand mold until she could easily remove it from the damp sand.   
  
         "Good dog! Well done! We take these with us for your Master. He will be proud of you when he learns what you’ve done!“   
  
         Claire squatted next to Bismarck and stroked the dog, whose tail wagged excitedly. She nodded affirmatively as she talked to him, and before she knew it, she was licked vigorously all over her face with the long dachshund tongue.   
  
         "Iiiih!”   
  
         Instinctively she wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket, only to remember that the dog had been sitting on that sleeve … Well, that didn’t matter any longer. When she looked back to Bismarck, he looked at her in surprise with his big brown dachshund eyes, as if not a piece of butter could melt in his mouth.   
  
         "Come on, we have to go back. Dinner is waiting.“  
  
         She got up, put the plastic mold in her right jacket pocket and started walking. Bismarck followed her willingly. She wished to know what he was thinking - thinking about her. Did the dog see her as an intruder in his and Jamie’s world? Did he consider her a competition? Or as a being whose existence he merely had to accept? Would he develop a similar affection for her as Adso had done over the years? Well, at least he showed no open dislike of her. That was already worth a lot.

 

(”Strand” by  [Inactive account – ID 1643606](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fblau-orange-farben-tier-strand-2315434%2F&t=NjU4Y2FiN2E1OGQ1YjY3NzNmMzM5OGRmMjExMTc4MDc2ZGIxYWM4MCx5M1BNbWR2OQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179988073025%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-13-secret&m=1) )

 

       Claire stopped, closing her eyes and stretching her arms. She sucked the spicy sea breeze through her nose into her lungs and then exhaled. That’s what she had been missing since moving from Boston to Berlin. The view of the open sea. The characteristic smell of the harbor and the sea. She couldn’t remember that she had told Jamie about it. But with this weekend excursion he had, unknowingly, fulfilled her long-cherished wish. During all the time in Berlin Frank had not been willing to even consider a more extended vacation to the North or Baltic Sea coast. Day trips within Berlin were fine. But everything that went out of this borders was not to be discussed. Only once had she been able to persuade him to go for a short beach holiday. Something she would regret her whole life.    
         Several years ago, when they visited Alex in Oxford for Easter holidays, they drove to Bournemouth afterward. There they rented a room in a hotel near Boscombe Pier for five more days. Claire remembered very well. She had made long, lonely walks by the sea, while Frank buried himself in the hotel behind his books, showing her how much he disliked this kind of vacation. As she walked along the beach and visited the city’s parks, she had repeatedly thought about leaving Frank. But she had not made a decision. Every night she returned to the hotel and thus back to Frank more reluctantly, leaving earlier each new morning. Twice she met Frank on her return slightly drunk at the hotel bar. Every time he seemed to be flirting with the blonde waitress. But the young woman was apparently not pleased with his advances towards her and happy when Claire took him by the arm, pulling him down from his barstool and leading him to their shared room.   
         The second time, Frank had quietly but distinctly cursed on the way there, and when the door closed behind them, he did not hold back. One insult followed the other. Claire didn’t know how many times she had to listen to what a bad wife she was. How could he have fallen for such a bitch like her? He must have been mad when he married her! What did he do to deserve that damned loveless, cold piece of flesh? A woman not able to give him a child! She had been tempted to reply that they were finally supposed to file for divorce. But she had been silent. She knew only too well that Frank was not really responsive in this condition. She just had to endure it. Any rebuke would only make him more aggressive than he already was. She had gone to the bathroom and showered. When she returned to the room, Frank was already in bed and snoring. His clothes were scattered all over the room. She bent down and picked up his pants, shirt, jacket, and socks and laid everything neatly over a chair. Then she reached for the shoes and put them aside. She told herself that she didn’t do that for him, but for herself. She didn’t want to wake up and see this mess first. The new day should not start with the problems of the past day. When she opened the comforter, she regretted that the hotel had only double beds on offer. She would much rather have slept in a single bed. She took the Jill-Miro-earplugs from her toiletry bag and put them in her ears. At least she did not have to endure Frank’s snoring. Shortly after that, she had pulled the blanket over her body and put off the light. Only a few minutes later she had fallen asleep.

 

(”Bournemouth” by  [diego_torres](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fbournemouth-k%25C3%25BCste-panorama-973653%2F&t=NzZiOGM4YmM3NGMyZDg2NDhhODU3ODJmYWQ0N2ZhZDlkNWU0NTQ2Mix5M1BNbWR2OQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179988073025%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-13-secret&m=1) )

 

         Claire opened her eyes and once again sucked the fresh sea breeze through her nose into her lungs. Bismarck sat quietly beside her right foot and looked out to the sea as if he was on guard. She wanted to force herself not to think about the things that happened in Bournemouth that night. Frank was dead. He was the past. He wouldn’t return. He would never hurt her again. Never.   
  
         "Come on Bismarck, let’s go!”   
  
         With determined steps, she walked towards the stone stairs, Bismarck in tow. But when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was caught by the past again. Frank was dead and yet it was as if he was playing the “hare and hedgehog race” with her - even now. Whenever she arrived somewhere, he was already there and grinned at her coldly. The past had caught her and didn’t allow her to enjoy the newly found freedom without him. Claire was trembling all over and had to hold onto the banister for a moment, slowly sinking to the bottom step. The dog jumped up the stairs and sat down beside her. Claire didn’t want to close her eyes and yet she followed the inner urge to do so, knowing she would not be able to make her way back until she had relived the nightmare.    
         So she closed her eyes and like countless times before, she felt her head lying face down on the pillow of her hotel bed. Then she felt Frank’s full weight on her and heard his hands tore the backside of her nightgown open. She heard his loud voice and the insulting words that throw her dignity as a woman into the trash bin. He was so loud she distinctly heard him in spite of the earplugs. When she wanted to straighten up, he pushed her back into the pillows with both hands, so that she could barely breathe. A fear of suffocation took possession of every fiber of her being. Once again, Frank went to work on her nightgown. Since he had to take his hands off her back, she managed to turn her face to the right. At least she could breathe. She still heard him talking to her. Within minutes he had become more and more enraged. At first, he only uttered insults, but then what he said became more and lewder and suddenly with both of his knees, he jerkily spread her legs apart. A stinging pain ran through her body. But whatever his drunken brain had planned, Frank’s body had been unable to do so. Even before she was able to take any defensive actions, he suddenly fell like a wet sack of Portland cement on her back and stayed there. To her fright, he began to snore again as if nothing had happened. Claire had to use all her strength to stand up and shake off Frank’s body. He rolled back to his side of the bed but did not come to rest on the mattress. He rolled over the edge of the bed and fell from there with a rumbling noise on the bedside rug. Claire jumped out of bed, expecting Frank to rise and continue his attack. But he remained to lie there and continued to snore. She waited a few minutes and when he really didn’t move, she took her clothes and went to the bathroom. There she took off her nightgown and looked at it. On the back, it was torn from the collar to the waist. As she turned her bare back to the mirror, she realized that slowly but distinctly a number of hematomas were forming there. Only then did she realize how badly her whole back ached. She turned the vanity mirror above the sink so she could see the back of her thighs. There, too, hematomas had formed, which continued to develop with every passing minute. Claire was dizzy. She reached for the edge of the bathtub and sat down on it. When her breathing returned to normal, she had made a decision. She got dressed and combed her hair. Then she washed her face. Carefully, she opened the door and slipped into the room. Frank was still lying on the bedside rug, snoring. Claire opened the door as quietly as possible and stepped into the hallway. After a few meters, she reached the elevator, which took her to the lobby. There she explained to the night porter that she couldn’t sleep because of her husband’s loud snoring and needed a single room for the next three nights. After she had presented her identity card and said that this room would also be paid by ‘Dr. Frank Randall’, the porter looked into the computer and then handed her the key for a free room on the fourth floor. As she closed the door of the single room behind her, she breathed freely for the first time again. Claire pulled off her shoes, her pants, and her sweater and slipped into bed. She really couldn’t sleep that night. She was too upset. But she managed to calm down at least a little.    
With a shudder, she remembered the morning after. She had gotten up early and had already eaten at the breakfast room shortly after 7 am. Then she had met Frank on her way to the elevator. She walked past him without a word, but he managed to follow her into the elevator. They were alone and Frank looked at her annoyed.  
  
         "Claire, what’s up? Where have you been and why is your nightgown laying torn on your bedside?“   
  
         Did he really want to tell her that he didn’t remember anything he had done to her just hours before? No, he would not get away with it.   
  
         "Why is my nightgown ripped? Because _you_ ripped it in your drunken state when you rammed your elbows into my back and your knees between my thighs.”  
  
         She turned and pulled up her sweater for a moment. When she turned back to face Frank. His face was white as a limy wall.  
  
         "Claire, I didn’t want that. I … I was drunk! Claire, please, forgive me.“  
  
         "Oh, you were drunk? As if that could excuse what you’ve done! Do you know what it’s called what you did? Rape in marriage! That’s what they call it in Great Britain and in Germany, Frank. And may I remind you, that I have British and German citizenship? In both countries, Professor Randall, this is a crime for which you can go to jail for up to five years.”  
  
         "Claire …“   
  
         His face had taken on a pleading expression.   
  
         "No, Frank. You won’t get away _with that_. I took pictures with my smartphone and uploaded them to a cloud. If I go to the police with it, then it is over with _the Honorable Professor Randall_ and his job at the Humboldt University. At every University!  But don’t worry, Frank. I will not go to the police. Because I have no desire to extradite myself to the Yellow Press. But from today things will change. Until the end of this vacation we will have separate rooms and when we are back in Berlin, I will move all the way to my room. We will never share a bed again. Have you heard, Frank? Never! And for the future, Frank, think well about what you say and what you do. Because in Germany, Frank, rape in marriage, prescribes only after 20 years. 20 years, Frank, 20 years in which you will never feel safe again. Think well about what you are doing or saying to me.”  
  
         Then the elevator door had opened.   
  
         "I’m going to our room, get my suitcase and then I want to be alone for the next three days. Do you understand?“   
  
         Frank, who apparently didn’t know what was happening to him, nodded. Resignation had settled all over his face.   
  
         Shortly after that, Claire returned with her suitcase to her new room. Frank had let her go without a word. As she closed the door behind her, she began to tremble. Slowly she let herself slide to the floor. She had loved this man, really loved him. She had trusted him and remained faithful to him even when he started to cheat on her. But he had destroyed all her love for him. Over the years he had repeatedly insulted and humiliated her. But what he had done that night was the straw on the camel’s back. A feeling of disgust and hatred rose within her, and a desire began to fill her thoughts that she had never believed she could have.   
  
         She wished that Frank would disappear.   
  
         She wished that Frank was gone.   
  
         She wished that Frank was dead.   
  
         And at that moment she knew it:   
  
         She would be able to kill Frank Randall.

 

* * *

 

**_As always: Thank you for reading and the comments you left. If you have questions, just sent me a DM or put it in the comments. You are very welcome :) - Next time, read: “The Murderess from the Grunewald (14): Getting Closer”_ **

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Getting Closer (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie comes to know Claire a little bit better.

(”Katze” by [rihaij](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fkatze-mieze-pfote-krallen-spiel-2596394%2F&t=ZmVlMjZjZmVlZjAzZDU2MjQzZGE0YTUwZGYxZDQzMWNkNjcwZGQyYyxiSFZFaXpzMg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F180473998260%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-14-getting&m=1))

 

**Six months ago -  Some hours after Jamie’s Second Attorney’s Visit to Prison**

         4 pm. Jamie drove his car into the parking lot in front of Claire’s house. Finally alone. Finally, time to think about everything without being interrupted. A few minutes later, he carefully opened the door to Claire’s house and when Adso didn’t show up he entered. First, he went into the kitchen, pulled up the window blind and looked at the two bowls on the ground. Both were empty. He rinsed out the drinking bowl and filled it with fresh water. Then he opened the cabinet containing the cans with the cat food. For fun and to see if the animal would really eat it, he chose a can of ‘Veggie Royal’. He reached for the can opener and started to work. Only seconds later he heard the kitchen door, which he had only ajar, open with a strong push. Immediately after that, the claws of four paws stitched themselves into his pants. In surprise and because of the sudden pain, Jamie dropped the can opener.  
  
         "Ah! Let go of my pants you wee beast!“ 

         He reached for Adso, who was sticking his whole body to Jamie’s right leg and slowly started to work upwards. With some difficulty, Jamie was able to release his leg from the cat. He put it down on the ground and held it by the neck for a moment. Then he looked at his pants. Adso’s claws had pulled some threads that were now sticking out of the fabric.  
  
         "Look at what you have done, you greedy something! That was a whole new pair of pants. I will bill your mom for it. Then you will get vegetables for the next six months and you can forget about ‘Sea Fish Royal’.”  
  
         The cat looked grumpy and made growling noises. Jamie released Adso and sighed.  
  
         "Yes, you are right. I already sound like a judge. But I am the lawyer of your mom Claire and not yours … “  
  
         Adso let out a bloodcurdling 'meow’.  
  
         "Yes, I understand.”

         Jamie sighed.  
  
         “I miss her, too, although I saw her two hours ago. Come on, let’s eat.”  
  
         After emptying the contents of the can into Adso’s bowl, Jamie searched the kitchen cabinets for a plate. He grabbed the sandwiches he had bought on the way. Then he reached for the bottle of Pepsi Light he had taken with him from the trunk of his car. He sat down at the kitchen table and started to eat his first sandwich. While doing so, he watched as Adso chewed on his 'royal vegetables’.

         "Well, if it were 'Chicken Royal’, you would have eaten it all out by this time, wouldn’t you?“  
  
         Adso did not pay any attention to Jamie but made a grumbling sound.  
  
         The cat was still chewing on the vegetables when the red-haired can opener had already devoured his second sandwich. After finishing his meal, Jamie wanted to dispose of the paper bags into the bin. But when he opened it, he realized that he was already full. He took the bag from the bucket and while doing so, he noticed various food packages. Two blue boxes of the "Azora” type of biscuit from Bahlsen fell out of the bucket. Claire must have a weakness for that kind of biscuit. He tied the garbage bag and put it in front of the kitchen door. Then he began to open one cupboard door after the other. The packages he’d seen in the trash had made him curious. Behind the first door, he found cleaning equipment and a roll of garbage bags. Under the sink stood cleaning agents, sponges, small brushes and shoe polish. He didn’t open the second door under the sink. There was the cat food. He already knew that. Then he turned to the small cupboards above the sink and the oven. One of these cabinets contained a large number of little cans with loose tea.

 

(”Tee” by [Tomasz_Mikolajczyk](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fgl%25C3%25A4ser-tee-kr%25C3%25A4uter-green-ceylon-1504433%2F&t=OTE1ZDNkNWM1MjVmYTVjZTNmNGU0OTJkYTFhYjJjM2ExZTY0ZGMxMixiSFZFaXpzMg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F180473998260%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-14-getting&m=1))  

 

         In another cabinet, he found muesli varieties, crispbread, muesli bars, ready-made soups, mashed potatoes powder, dumplings, and baking ingredients. The third small cupboard contained a number of tiny glasses with different spices: white and black pepper, salt, sugar,cinnamon, anise, ginger, paprika, tikka masala, cardamom, turmeric, cumin, caraway. curry. In the upper compartment of the long cabinet on the other side of the counter, he found cans and jars of fruit and vegetables. Under this compartment was the refrigerator. He opened it and found nothing except some apples, a packet of butter and three packs of different cheeses. He decided that he would take a closer look at these cabinets when he had more time. Then he also would make a list of all the foods. It would certainly be useful to know which foods she preferred.

 

(”Lebensmittel” by [RitaE](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fpaprika-gem%25C3%25BCse-lebensmittel-168503%2F&t=ODhiNzRmYWFjMGNkZDc2NzcyZjU1NTNiNTc3YjRlMWNkODVkZmNhZixiSFZFaXpzMg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F180473998260%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-14-getting&m=1)) 

 

         After he had provided the garbage can with a new bag, he left the kitchen. That was the moment, he noticed that Adso had disappeared. Jamie went to the first floor and entered the bathroom. A disgusting smell rose to his nose. He remembered, that he had noticed it the day before, but now it seemed to be even more penetrating. Then his eyes fell on the cat toilet, which stood in a corner of the bathroom.  
  
         "Uhh. No!“  
  
         Another thing he would have to take care of from now on.  
  
         "Irfrinn.”

         Jamie pulled up the shutters of the bathroom window and opened it.  The rush of fresh air was a blessing. Now he noticed the plants that stood on the windowsill and beside the bathtub. It dawned on him that he would have to care for these too.  
  
         "One more job,“ he sighed.  
  
         Jamie left the bathroom and walked over to Claire’s bedroom. He had no words for the chaos that displayed itself in front of his eyes. Claire had told him about her arrest and how rude the police had dealt with her, but he had not expected that. In front of a dressing table, he saw an antique-looking white chair that had been broken into several pieces. Besides the bedside table lay a broken porcelain vase. The mattress of the bed had been raised and then only provisionally laid back on the bedstead. Pillows and blankets were scattered all over the room. The doors of the wardrobes stood open. Apparently, they had been searched. No effort had been made to return the garments to the compartments from which they were pulled out. It would take several hours of time and effort to restore order to this room again. He cautiously climbed over some of the things lying on the ground. Then he opened the window blind and the window. Letting in the fresh air would be the first step. When he was on the way back down to the living room, he noticed a hatch embedded in the ceiling leading to the loft. What would it hide? He hurried down to the kitchen and opened the cupboard in which he had spotted the cleaning equipment. Between broom and scrubber, he found a pole with a born hook.  
  
         "That’s what I was looking for,” he said quietly as he pulled the pole out of the closet.  
  
        Back on the first floor, he led the born hook through the small eyelet, which was attached to the attic hatch and pulled at it. The hatch opened and slowly an extendable staircase glided towards him.

 

(”Attic Stairs, pulled down”by Scott Arneman [CC BY-SA 3.0 -  
[https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0&t=YjUxMzY2NjRiOGM3ZDc4M2M2MDNiMDAzMGU4MmM1YjliNmVjYzM0ZSxiSFZFaXpzMg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F180473998260%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-14-getting&m=1) -  [from Wikimedia Commons](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fupload.wikimedia.org%2Fwikipedia%2Fcommons%2F4%2F43%2FAttic_Stairs%252C_pulled_down.JPG&t=YjBkOTFmZjAyYWMxYjY1NDU0NDQ2OGRkZjdjNThiYjdkM2QyZjI5NCxiSFZFaXpzMg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F180473998260%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-14-getting&m=1)

 

         Carefully, Jamie climbed the stairs. When he stuck his head through the hatch, at first he saw nothing. Then he felt a kind of railing to the right and left of the hatch. At the right post of this railing, he felt an attached remote control as he knew it for radio-controlled sockets. He pressed all four buttons and immediately different lamps went on in the room.

         "Clever!“  
  
        Jamie got out of the hatch, entered the floor and looked around in surprise. Instead of a dusty and cobwebbed loft, he found a kind of combined living room and study. As he looked around, he suddenly remembered a conversation with his former colleague Marcel. When Jamie was housesitting the apartment of a friend, Marcel came along for a visit. As he entered the apartment, Marcel looked around and said: "Every house speaks a language. Every house tells a story. And if we look closely, the house will tell us its story." Jamie was ready to watch and to listen carefully. He wanted to hear Claire’s story. The story she hadn’t told him yet. Her story. Who was she?  
  
        _“What story are you telling me, Claire? Talk to me, I’ll listen … attentively."_

         On one of the gables of the roof stood shelves with books and other trifles. Framed black and white photographs hung on the other gable wall. He went to the pictures and looked at them closely. One showed a middle-aged man with a beard and topee in front of an ancient building. Jamie knew instantly what place it was. It was the temple of Queen Hatshepsut at Luxor. The man in the picture had to be Claire’s uncle Lambert. Another photo showed him with a young girl beside the feet of a colossal statue. Jamie suspected that this photo showed Claire and her uncle in front of the foot of one of the Ramses statues at the Great Temple of Abu Simbel. Another picture showed her and her uncle riding on camels. Jamie started to giggle. He would give a lot to see something like that with his own eyes - Claire on a camel. Before he came to look at the other pictures, he suddenly noticed how Adso stroked his legs.

  
         "How did _you_ come here?”  
  
         He bent down and stroked the cat.  
  
         "Will you _at least_ behave yourself?“  
  
         The cat gently squeezed his head into his hand.  
  
         "Hm. Seems so.”  
  
         Jamie stretched and looked around the room. Seen from his right side was a large wooden box with metal fittings. He walked over to it and saw that a lettering had been placed on the upper side of the box: “Q. L. Beauchamp.” Apparently, the box once belonged to Claire’s uncle. What would it contain? Jamie resisted the desire to open it. Right next to the box stood a small black leather sofa. A beige pillow and a dark red rug lay on top of it. In front of the sofa stood a coffee table. On it, he found Claire’s laptop in front of a flat screen. Again, he resisted his curiosity to open the laptop. Then he remembered the second gable wall, the one where the bookshelves stood. Most of the books were older books dealing with archaeological topics and countries where Lambert Beauchamp had been active. But there were also some newer publications. Among them, Jamie discovered Tim Jeal’s book “Stanley - The Impossible Life of Africa’s Greatest Explorer,” as well as various books by the British Archaeologist and Egyptologist David Rohl. He immediately recognized the spine of ‘A Test of Time’. Next to it stood ‘The Lords of Avaris’ and ‘From Eden to Exile’.

 

(Picture: DoP)

 

        Several times he tapped his right leg with the palm of his hand, whispering:

         "Claire, Claire, Claire, Claire. Undeniably, your uncle was a very unconventional man.“

         Jamie smiled and turned to the other side of the roof. In the middle, there was a modern tilting window with a sunshade. Underneath stood a simple wooden desk with a modern desk chair. The desk was tidied up. On the left side, he saw some books and notebooks. Each of these notebooks was bound in leather. Year figures were printed in golden letters on the spines. He picked up the notebook closest to him and opened it. At the sight of the lines, he realized that it was a diary. Claire’s handwriting was beautiful, bright and consistent. He closed the book without reading and put it back in its place. A modern desk lamp stood on the right side of the desk. Like the floor lamp next to the couch and the floor lamps next to the bookshelves it lightened up when he had touched the remote control at the post of the railing. Next to the books on the desk, he noticed an open calendar in front of it a pen tray. Everything was clean and orderly. Then his eyes fell on the writing pad. There was a book wrapped in a leather cover with a silver fountain pen in a loop at the right edge of it. It was probably Claire’s current diary. 

 

(”Traveler’s Notebook” by [AnnaBetlejewska](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Ftraveler---s-notebook-notizen-2245970%2F&t=OGU1NWQ2MWM4YzgwMzA5MmRhNTU5NzRiYjNlMTZlMjIxNGExMGEwNSxiSFZFaXpzMg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F180473998260%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-14-getting&m=1) )  
 

         Jamie gently stroked it with his right hand. No, he would not open it. He already felt like an intruder. This was obviously Claire’s personal refuge. He was glad that the police didn’t cause disorder or damage here. He knew from other cases what traumatic consequences a house search could have for the people affected. The unimpeded invasion of a person’s privacy always had consequences. For most of the people who experienced such a search, their sense of security was damaged for many years. Had the police even discovered this room? He doubted it because he could not believe that otherwise, they would have left behind Claire’s most personal records. Especially her diaries would have been of great interest to the prosecutor. Also, her laptop would have been confiscated. 

         He went back to the little black sofa and sat down. Then he took the pillow and then the blanket and smelled it. Was that Claire’s smell? He wasn’t sure. Suddenly Adso crawled out from under the coffee table, jumped into the seat next to him and scrambled onto his lap. Jamie sighed. Then he started to scratch the cat. Meanwhile, he let his eyes wander carefully around the room again.

         “This room tells me a lot about your mom, old boy. She is a very disciplined and organized person, right?  That doesn’t fit into the picture of the act she was accused of. If she wanted to kill a person, she wouldn’t cause as much chaos as the person who killed Frank Randall. No, that’s not the way she thinks and works.” 

         The cat purred under his hands.

         “Besides, your mom is a smart woman. With her medical knowledge, she would undoubtedly have found other ways to get rid of the old crook. If she had really wanted to kill him, she would certainly have done so in a way that no one could have proved it to her. No, the bloodbath in Grunewald does not suit her at all.”

         Adso stretched. The cat climbed from Jamie’s lap and walked over to the pillow. Like Jamie just before, he smelled it. Then he looked questioningly at Jamie and meowed.

         "It seems we both miss her.”  
  
         The cat answered with some more meows. Jamie didn’t know how long he’d sat on the sofa with Adso. But when his stomach started to growl, he knew it was time for dinner. He set the cat carefully on the ground.  
  
         "Come on, we have to go.“

         He got up and looked around the room again. Then he went to the desk. He gently stroked the backs of Claire’s diaries. Finally, he put his left hand on the book that lay on the writing pad and stayed that way. Then he broke free and headed for the stairs.

* * *

 ******As always: Thank you for reading and the comments you left. If you have questions, just sent me a DM or put it in the comments. You are very welcome :) - Next time, read: “Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (6): Sharing Joy and Sorrow (4)”**

* * *

 

 

 


	15. Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (6): Sharing Joy and Sorrow (4)

“The Chalk Cliffs of Rügen” by [Sweetaholic](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fusers%2Fsweetaholic-296788%2F&t=MDE5ZTA5ZjNlMTg0NGUzYWE3YjY4NWQyMjRiY2NiZTNkNjM1MGJjZiw3am1PRUtzNQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F181311278890%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-15-geheimer&m=1) 

 

**Saturday evening of the Whitsun weekend 2020,  
one day after Claire’s release from prison  
  
**

         Claire’s heart was racing. She was still sitting on the last step of the stone staircase that had led her down to the beach only half an hour ago. The memory of Frank’s brutal attack at their hotel room in Bournemouth had sucked all strength out of her body. Bismarck was still sitting next to her feet, looking up at her attentively. She was not sure if his eyes expressed more concern or expectation. Suddenly her mobile rang.

 

         Claire reached into her jacket and when she pulled it out, she saw that Jamie was calling. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Then she answered the call and said firmly:

         "Hello, Jamie!“

         "Hello, Claire! I just wanted to say … ähm … dinner is … ready. Have … you two ... lost … your way? You’ve been out there for a long time now?" 

         "No, no!”

         She tried to put all the confidence in her voice she was capable of at the moment. It was not much, but she hoped she could convince him. She would not be responsible for him being worried. 

         "Bismarck and I … we … just forgot … time. There was so much to discover at the beach. Wait until you see what we’ve found. We’re on our way back … home now.“ 

         When Bismarck heard his name, he jumped up and began to pull on the leash.

         "Well. See you soon.”

         "See you soon, Jamie.“

         Claire hung up. Then she looked down at Bismarck, who began to dance around excitedly. She gently ran her hand over his head.

         "Yes, we are going back to your master now.”

         Claire took the dog in her arms and slowly climbed upwards. Once at the top, she put Bismarck back on the ground. This time she did not have to wait. The dog immediately took the path towards their holiday home. They had almost reached the edge of the forest when a huge male figure stepped out of a group of trees. Claire was startled first, then she realized it was Jamie’s outline. At the same time, Bismarck seemed to have recognized his master too and pulled even harder on the leash. Shortly after that, they faced each other.

         "Well, there you are!“

         Jamie had squatted down and begun to stroke the prancing Bismarck.

         "You see, there’s no reason to worry that your dog will ever become unfaithful to you.”

         Jamie got up, looked at her and pulled her close.

         "How are you, Sassenach? Is everything ok?“

         "Yeah, all right,” she said firmly. She didn’t look at him and he sensed she was not telling the whole truth.  

         "Claire,“ he said softly while letting her go, "you know what we promised each other in prison?”  

         "Yes.“  

         She sighed. Then she nodded and said:  

         "Secrets are fine, but no lies.”  

         "Exactly.“  

         Jamie looked at her but said nothing.  

         "It’s … all right … again … I … I … remembered something down at the beach. But I don’t want to talk about that now. It … it was just a … kind … of flashback.”

         It was a factual statement, but her eyes clearly begged that he should not ask for more right now.

         Jamie nodded. Then he pulled her near again and Claire melted into his embrace. It took a moment, but then he felt her slowly relax. They stood there for some more minutes, then they parted and walked silently to the house.

 

Caprese von [katjasv](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Ftomate-mozzarella-mozzarella-1589420%2F&t=ZjE0ZmZjMmVjMDIzMjE3ZDg2YzYzMmE3OTJhYzA1NDE1M2IwOGVkNyw3am1PRUtzNQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F181311278890%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-15-geheimer&m=1)

 

       Jamie opened the door for her and when Claire entered, she saw that the dining table was already set. An elegant white tablecloth covered the oak wooden table. On the right and left side of the table, two plates stood opposite to each other. To the right of each plate, the cutlery was placed on a triangularly folded napkin. On the left side of the table were two bowls covered with lids on a rectangular warmer. To the right of the plates, she saw a large round plate with [Caprese salad](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FCaprese_salad&t=YTEzNjQ1ODYwZTU5ZThmM2U2Mzc4NGY1NzkzN2E0NDMwNDMxZDY2ZSx0VE1xN1V5SQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F181435004390%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-15-secret&m=1). Two white candles on large, silver candlesticks lit the table. Claire looked at the scenery in amazement, then turned to Jamie and smiled at him.  

         "Oh, you gave yourself so much trouble … Thank you, Jamie.“  

         He unleashed the dog, then put his right arm around her and led her to the table.

         "Come, let’s eat. I’m hungry, aren’t you?”    
  
         Dinner went on relatively quiet, only occasionally interrupted by Adso or Bismarck. Both animals made themselves known with soft whimpering or meowing. Apparently, they also wanted to have something from the dinner table. But neither Jamie nor Claire gave in to that desire.  

         "Those two greedy fur monsters,“ Jamie said, shaking his head as they rinsed the dishes.

         "Can you blame them? Imagine those delicious smells crawling into your nose, but you have no chance to get any of that?”  

         "Should I feel sorry for them? No chance! I fed them both well. But they just can’t get enough. They are thoroughly greedy.“  

         "The relentless James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser,” she said smiling. 

         "Only with these two greedy creatures,“ he replied with a slightly ironic undertone.

         "I will not starve if I behave properly?” Claire asked, picking up with the banter she heard in his tone.  

         "You will never starve. Sassenach. It doesn’t matter if you act properly or not.“  

         He took the dishcloth from her and pulled her close. His look became serious again.

         "I have only one wish, Claire. I want you to be well … and I want to do anything I can for it.”  


         When she sat down on the sofa a short time later, Claire’s gaze fell on an illustrated book that lay on the coffee table. She read the title: _Rügen and Hiddensee - an exploration in 200 pictures._   

         "Are you planning a trip for tomorrow?“ she asked in the direction of Jamie, who knelt in front of the fireplace, putting new logs above the older ones.  

         "No,” he answered and stood up.  

         "I think in the past months’ others _did plan_ enough without asking what you like to do. I would like to show you a little of the island. If you want us to see or do anything, then we can do that. But if you want to spend the whole weekend just on the sofa and like to be served drinks and meals, then that’s ok for me too.“  

         He sat down next to Claire on the sofa.  

         "That, Dr. Fraser, is a tantalizing prospect. But, frankly, I’m looking forward to exploring the island with you. I’ve spent enough time behind walls the last six months. I long for fresh air and a variety of leisure activities. Tell me what we can do tomorrow!”

 

Jagdschloss Granitz * Photo by Klugschnacker  
[CC BY-SA 3.0 ([https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0&t=MzFkZGMxZjk3MTFmOGJmZTg3NzBiMTRmMTE2OTYzM2VkYmMzZjcyZSw3am1PRUtzNQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F181311278890%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-15-geheimer&m=1))],  
from Wikimedia Commons

 

        Jamie picked up the book and flipped through some pages. Then he pointed to a double-page-picture:  

         "The chalk cliffs are of course the landmark of the island. You should not have been here without seeing them. At this time of the year, it is also a pleasure to be around there, because only a few tourists visit the island right now. From June / July up to autumn, it is very crowded here. “  

         He flipped more pages and pointed to another picture.  

         "This is the beach promenade of [Binz](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FBinz&t=N2RkYzVmOGEyNDNmNTg5ODM0YjVmZTVmODU5NTE2MTY2ZTYzODgwMix0VE1xN1V5SQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F181435004390%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-15-secret&m=1). The city was also called the ‘Nice of the East’ because of its so-called _[resort architecture](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FResort_architecture&t=MmJjNTBhMmNiN2ZkZWFkZmY1NmRlY2I3ZDQ5ZmEyOWE5ZDEwMjM0ZSx0VE1xN1V5SQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F181435004390%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-15-secret&m=1)_. The promenade is four kilometers long and the villas that you find there were all built between 1890 and 1910. After the reunification of Germany, they were restored extensively and are now shining in their old splendor. Very close to Binz is the hunting lodge of Granitz. It was built in 1725. From its middle tower, you have a fantastic view over the whole island. We could visit the castle in the afternoon and then drive to Binz. There we could visit the beach promenade and have dinner in one of the restaurants there. Would you like that?  

         "That sounds good. What else does the island have to offer?”  

         Again, Jamie flipped through the pages of the book.  

         "Here are some pictures of [Sellin](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FSellin&t=ZWMwNzkzNTFhMTdjYWE2M2I1YjIzZWE0YjQ5YzI5NDFmNDk2ZGI5Yyx0VE1xN1V5SQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F181435004390%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-15-secret&m=1). The historic pier is worth a visit. It was rebuilt after the reunification and it’s called the _Lady in White_. You can explore the seabed with a dive gondola there. Oh yes, and in the Baltic Hall of the house on the pier, there is also a registry office - _just in case we decide spontaneously …_  “

 

Seebrücke Sellin by [O12](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fseebr%25C3%25BCcke-sellin-ostsee-strand-3681412%2F&t=NTFkNTliNTk4MjhjZDJmZGJhNmQ3YjZjMGRiZmQyMTY5ZmQ4MGY2NSw3am1PRUtzNQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F181311278890%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-15-geheimer&m=1)

 

         Claire looked at him mischievously. 

         "Dream on, Dr. Fraser.“

         "Besides, there is the amber museum in Sellin …”  

         "Oh! That sounds interesting!“  

         "If you want, we can go there. They have a copy of the amber crown, with which every second year a young woman is crowned the Amber Queen of Rügen.”

         "Yes, I would really like to see that.“

 

Thatched roof on Hiddensee by [falco](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fhiddensee-ostsee-insel-r%25C3%25BCgen-1032342%2F&t=NWI1ZGVkYjZkMzhjYjhmOWRjNmExMmY1MmVlNTgxMTM4MGQ4N2Y2MSw3am1PRUtzNQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F181311278890%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-15-geheimer&m=1)

 

         "I would also like to travel to Hiddensee with you, but we will not be able to do it this weekend.”  

         "Hiddensee? Is that another seaside resort? “

         "No, Hiddensee is a narrow island that lies on the west side of Rügen. It is said, that the legendary Norwegian King Hedin has fought for a woman and for gold while on the island. But that is more likely a legend than reality. Since the 13th century, there is a monastery on the island. Hiddensee became famous between 1872 and 1874. Near the town of Neuendorf, a small treasure of gold was discovered. The find was about several pieces of 10th-century gold jewelry. It is considered an outstanding example of Viking goldsmithing by historians. Today this jewelry is on display at the culture-historical museum in Stralsund. If you are interested, we can visit the museum on the way back. It’s really worth a visit.”  

         "Museums and jewelry always interest me. Particular if it’s from the period of the Vikings. But now I’m fatigued. What’s the time?“  

         "Nearly ten.”  

         Jamie closed the book, pulled Claire close and kissed her on the forehead.  

         "I’ll let the dog out the last time and then we go to bed?“  

         "Agreed.”  

         Jamie got up and headed for the door. At the same moment, Bismarck jumped up and followed him. Claire went to see Adso, who had made himself comfortable on one of the windowsills. She gently stroked his head.  

         "Good night darling. Are you staying here or are you coming with me?“  

         The cat stretched and Claire took this as a sign that Adso wanted to come along. She took the cat and at that moment Jamie returned with Bismarck. He put out the candles, then followed Claire and Adso up the stairs. On the top landing, she turned to him.  

         "Good night, Jamie.”  

         She let the cat slide to the floor. Without looking back, Adso strolled into the room Claire had occupied a few hours earlier.  

         "Good night Claire.“  

         He took her hand, looked at her and kissed her the last time.  

         "Sleep well.”  

         "You too, Jamie.“

         Claire looked at him again, then she closed the door behind her.  

         "Come on, Bismarck. Let’s get comfortable.”

         The little black dragon followed his master without spitting fire.  

         Jamie found it hard to fall asleep. He missed Claire next to him. The warmth of her body. The sound of her breath. The touch of her hand when she unconsciously searched for him at night while sleeping.  
         But at some point tiredness overwhelmed him. He slept peacefully, dreaming of wooded cliffs and white beaches until a blood-curdling scream woke him violently.  

         "Claire!“

* * *

 ** _Thank you for reading and the comments you left. If you have questions, just sent me a DM or put it in the comments. - Next time, read: “Getting Closer” (2)_**  


	16. Getting Closer (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day that starts in chaos brings up a surprising opportunity for Dr. James Fraser.

“Wecker” by [CrizzlDizzl](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fwecker-hammer-glocken-leuten-uhr-2566355%2F&t=ODVjZWI4NWVlZDdhZDQ1MmVkOTU2M2JjZTFjYTM5ODA3OGIwNWY2MyxrNlNPWjRxSg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182270678795%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-16-getting&m=1)

 

**Six months ago. Fourth Attorney’s Visit to Prison, one day after the previous one  
**   


         "What a messy day!“ James Fraser thought as he followed a female law enforcement officer through the barren, cold corridors of the prison a few minutes past nine. It was a foggy December morning, and the cold that was pouring from Russia towards the west had kept the German capital and the entire surrounding [Brandenburg](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FBrandenburg&t=NWI2OGU1YmU5YTA1ZTBhMjQxMGEzNjVjMTcyYTE0MmUyNDczMmQwNixrNlNPWjRxSg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182270678795%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-16-getting&m=1) region firmly under control for days.  

        [Dr. jur.](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FDoctor_of_Law%23Germany&t=OGFjMDRkYWNmZTY2YzQ4MWQ2ZmMyZmNiMTU2NDcyNjEyMmEyNjg5ZCxrNlNPWjRxSg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182270678795%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-16-getting&m=1) James Fraser was a well-organized and disciplined man. In addition to the high IQ he inherited from his father, the emotional intelligence, developed under the loving eyes and care of his mother, and his rhetorical qualities that had already become noticeable at an early age, his ability to self-discipline was an important, if not the most important foundation of his success. His daily life followed a precise plan. Every day, including Sundays, started not later than 5:30 am and ended at 11:30 pm, if possible. His days were clearly structured and two ‘invisible allies’, as he secretly called them, helped him to archive his goals: Tessa Lüttgenjohann, his irreplaceable secretary and his smartphone. The device with numerous apps had almost become a sort of 'second brain’ for him. It counted everything: The number of hours he had slept. The number of work hours he spent on a case. The cups of coffee he drunk that particular day (still too many!). The device also managed the results of his daily blood pressure measurements and the status of his home food storage. It contained lists of his books, CDs and DVDs, but also a list of the groceries he had to buy the next time he went shopping and a list of orders he had to place on a special date. A calendar for 'work dates’ (which was connected with Tessa’s calendar in the law office) kept him up-to-date with the client and court appointments, birthdays (of colleagues and other important people), anniversaries and training events on a daily basis. A second calendar app reminded him of his private dates. Although there were only a few such dates (appointments with doctors or friends, some private social obligations and the deadline for his private annual tax declaration), it was necessary to be reminded in time. Every night James Fraser knew _exactly_ how much he had worked, how many liters of water he had drunk, which appointments were due the next day, and when he had to buy a new tube of toothpaste.            
           
         But all this didn’t stop things from falling into chaos on some days, and today was _such_ a day.

 

“Sonnenuntergang Berlin” by [StockSnap](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fberlin-deutschland-sonnenuntergang-698537%2F&t=ZjFiM2MzODJkNWExMzRiMGU5MDEyMzgwOWU2NjU0MjQ0NjZiYWNiZixrNlNPWjRxSg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182270678795%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-16-getting&m=1)

 

         Jamie had gone to bed the night before on time and had - at first - also slept well. At some point during the night, however, he had dreamed of Claire. What he saw in this dream was an unraveling mess of images. Glances of her beautiful appearance alternated with images of her bloodied hands followed in turn by a glimpse of her radiant face. He knew that he had seen much more in his dream, but it was impossible for him to remember everything. When he woke up, he was cold and when he switched on the lamp on his bedside table, he saw that it was 4.10 am. Obviously, he had been tossing and turning during his dream because the blanket had partially slipped out of bed and only his feet were still covered. Jamie had gotten up, gone to the bathroom, and peed. Returning to the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed and tried to make sense of what he had seen. _What if this dream was a warning message from his subconscious? What if Claire was not innocent? What if he fell in love with an icy self-serving killer like[Vera Brühne](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FVera_Br%25C3%25BChne&t=YTViZTIyNGNkOTI1NTE2MWYwMDhlNzUxMGFkN2EwZjhkYzNkMmExYSxrNlNPWjRxSg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182270678795%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-16-getting&m=1)?_ He had risen and gone down to the kitchen. There he had been greeted by a surprised and apparently equally sleepy Bismarck. Jamie had taken a bottle of water from the fridge and drank. Then he turned to Bismarck, who looked expectantly up at him _and_ the open fridge.

         "Come on,” he’d said to the dog as he closed the fridge, “we’ll get us some fresh air, old friend.”  
  
         Bismarck followed him willingly into the winter garden. But when Jamie opened the door to the garden and stepped out, the dachshund clearly showed his unwillingness to take a walk. It was cold - according to the season - and hoarfrost lay across the lawn. Jamie took a deep breath and stretched, then he took a few steps. The dog followed him, lifting his characteristic short legs in a manner that expressed all his indignation. After a few minutes, Jamie felt the cold too.  
  
         "Come,“ he said, "we’ll go back in.”  
  
         The dog, who had understood at once, turned around and ran inside. When Jamie followed him, he saw that a trail of dirty dachshund paws led from the winter garden to the kitchen.

         "Irfrinn!“  
  
         He knew that Mrs. Schaller would come in the morning and get rid of the filth. But he didn’t want her to eliminate the effects of his ill-considered action. So he went into the kitchen, got a scrubber out of one of the cabinets, and put one of those practical wet wipes on its wiping surface. Shortly thereafter, the dirt was removed and a few minutes later, Jamie returned to his bedroom. The alarm clock on his bedside table showed 4.30 am. It was clear to him that it was not a good idea to go to bed again. The danger of falling asleep too deeply and oversleeping was too great. But he felt limp and drained. So he set the alarm clock of his smartphone to 'extra loud’ and hoped that two alarm clocks would not miss their effect. His hope should not be fulfilled.  
  
         It was Tessa Lüttgenjohann who - once again - had saved his day. Or rather, what was left of that day. When he didn’t appear in the office at 8:00 am, she had called him and the continuous ringing of the smartphone _and_ his analog telephone had archived what two alarm clocks had failed to do. First, the look at the alarm clock had shocked him, then he had jumped out of bed and rushed under the shower. The cold water seemed like a punishment, but it had the desired effect. The good thing was, that he had at least put out his suit, a shirt, and a tie for the day the evening before. He got dressed, grabbed his briefcase, and left the house. Shortly thereafter, when he had pulled himself into the morning traffic of the city, he turned to his smartphone and dialed the number of Mr. and Mrs. Schaller. When Mrs. Schaller took the call, Jamie asked her to feed Bismarck and go for a walk with the dog.  A few minutes later, he stopped in front of a coffee shop where he bought a coffee, two sandwiches, some nut bars, and three daily papers. When he was back in the car, he took a big gulp of coffee and unpacked two of the nut bars. If he hurried, he would be still on time for his appointment at the prison. Then his eyes fell on the front page of one of the newspapers.  
  
         "Irfrinn! Irfrinn! Irfrinn!”

 

“News” by [MichaelGaida](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fnews-tageszeitung-presse-1172463%2F&t=YWIxNGFiZjI2MWMyNTkwODdlNWI5MTljZDI4OTRhMmY4M2E5ZGNlYixrNlNPWjRxSg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182270678795%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-16-getting&m=1)

 

 **_“Murder in the Millionaire’s Quarter”_ ** was written in large letters on one of it and below there were two large pictures showing Claire being handcuffed and brought into the police headquarters by police officers. Her whole head was defaced, but the hints found in the entry text of the article would enable even a teenager to disclose Claire’s identity:

          _“Berlin. Already in March, she was suspected of murdering her 15 years older husband. Now the suspicions have hardened and new evidence has been found. Dr. Claire B., who has been working in the surgery of Berlin’s international recognized University hospital Charité, was arrested a few days ago and presented to the custodial judge of the District Court. Convinced of the new evidence, judge Wilfried Mackenroth issued an arrest warrant and ordered the transfer of the suspect to the correctional facility for women in Moabit. According to the spokeswoman of the general prosecutor’s office, the long-prepared bill of indictment has since been delivered to Dr. B. The general prosecutor’s representative was confident that the accused would be convicted of the murder of her former husband, the well-known British historian, and professor at the history department of the Humboldt University, Dr. Frank R. The marriage of the two British nationals, who have been living in a villa in Berlin’s most prestigious quarter of the rich and famous for several years, has been shattered for quite some time as sources told our reporter …. ”_

         Jamie’s eyes fell on the covers of the other two papers. They too had made the murder of Frank Randall the headline of the day.

          ** _“Former successful doctor - a killer?”_** and _ **“Internationally respected British historian -  Was he killed by the hands that otherwise healed?”**_ was what he read. Under both titles, the same pictures could be found as in the first newspaper. A wave of disgust arose in him, but he forced himself to focus all his attention on the traffic. Now was the time to hold all his strength together. He could not afford more confusion today.

         The judicial officer, a woman, led the Fraser through the now well-known, bald and cool corridors of the prison. Minutes later, they were standing in front of the door of the meeting room for lawyers and their clients. As the officer stepped forward to unlock it, Jamie raised his hand.

         "Just a moment, please,“ he whispered.

         He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on Claire. Then he said:

         "We can go.”

         The officer opened the door and locked it behind him. Claire stood at the window with her back to him. She wore the blue pants and the dark red angora sweater,  he had sent her with the clothing package some days earlier.

         "Good morning, Claire!“

         Jamie tried to smile and exude confidence. Claire turned and came to meet him. When he looked into her face, a feeling of greater concern filled his whole being. Obviously, she had hardly slept and cried a lot.

         "Good morning, Jamie,” she answered softly, her voice hinting the full extent of her exhaustion.

         "Claire, are you not feeling well?“

         She did not answer immediately but pointed to the table. There was another newspaper, and on its front page the headline asked  _ **"The deadly grip on the scalpel - last resort for a broken marriage?”**_   Below he saw - as expected - the same pictures as seen on the front pages of the other newspapers.  
  
         Jamie hurried toward Claire, gently grabbed her by the left arm and led her the few steps to the table. There he pulled out the chair and asked her to sit down. He scarcely suppressed his inner anger. Deliberately he had left his own papers in the car because he didn’t want her to see that and still …  
  
         "Claire, I am sorry that you are exposed to … this slander.“  
  
         He grabbed her hand and held her tight. Then he looked into her eyes.

 

”Fenster” by [StockSnap](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Ftisch-stuhl-spiegel-fenster-glas-2576364%2F&t=NTY1M2EwN2QwMzEzYzliYzE4OTU1ZDc2YmQ1M2NkNWVlOTgyZTBiZCxHYUNFWTg0MQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F176519116935%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-2-dr-med&m=1)

 

 

         "But I’ve already taken the first steps to make this …,” he breathed deeply, “to put an  end to this crap.”  
  
         She looked at him questioningly. But before she could begin to speak, he sat down and answered:  
  
         "I have arranged a consultation with Germany’s leading media lawyer. Professor Nerz teaches at the University of Hamburg and is an expert in this field. I will ask him for thorough advice and then we will develop a strategy on how we can hold this gutter press to account. “  
  
         Claire closed her eyes and Jamie could see how she kneaded her folded hands.  
  
         "Thanks,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you … and … it will surely cost a lot of money …”  
  
         "Claire,“ he interrupted gently but firmly, "you don't have to worry about that now. I came here today to discuss some very important things with you. Let’s focus on that, _please_.”  
  
         Jamie picked up the newspaper and put it in his briefcase. Then he took out the drinks he had gotten from the vending machine in the visitor area of the prison.  
  
         "Coke or water?“  
  
         "Coke, if possible.”  
  
         "Certainly.“  
  
         He opened the bottle and poured the paper cup halfway.  
  
         "Thank you.”  
  
         "Claire,“ he said as she took a sip, "as sad as it is … yet it was clear the media would jump on this case. We are not in a small provincial village, but in the capital of the fourth largest industrial nation on the earth. However, I promise you: I will sue anyone who makes a prejudgemental statement about you in any way and anyone who even tries to stain your good name will pay dearly for it. As I said, I will consult with Professor Nerz and then … then there is a friend of mine … who also works in the media industry and could help us … if … ”  
  
         "If …? If _what?!_ “  
  
         "His name is David de Koning. He worked for one of the country’s largest tabloids for many years. Then he went to Nepal for a story. Do you remember the massive Earthquake of 2015? Luckily, the death toll was not as high as in Haiti five years prior, but 800,000 homes collapsed and left hundreds of thousands of people homeless. David flew over to report and came back … well, let’s say, quite changed… A year or so later he then set up his own news platform, _The U-Turn_. He tries to publish more in-depth stories and avoids sensational headlines like … He’s a very good journalist, but his company is still young … he offered to help us if I gave him all the important information two hours earlier than other papers and … ”  
  
          _“And?”_  
  
         "And … if we will, … that is, … if _you_ will give him an exclusive interview.“  
  
         She went pale.  
  
         "I understand that you are worried, Claire. But on the one hand, this interview would not take place until _after_ the lawsuit is completed and, moreover, it would give you the opportunity to present your story _unfiltered_.”

         He was silent for a moment. Then he continued:  
  
         "When I thought about David’s offer, I remembered a case that was in the news several years ago. A well-known biochemist, who had built up a small but growing business in Brandenburg, had been accused of having injured her boyfriend with a knife. Supposedly she wanted to kill him because he had turned to another woman. The classic motive of jealousy. The media went all the way and suddenly there were people all over the papers who said they know her and then spread a lot of negative things and even lies about the woman. And of course, these 'witnesses’ were paid well for their 'interviews’. The reputation of the scientist was destroyed in no time. At the end of the legal trial, it turned out, that the alleged victim had lied and that his injuries were inflicted by his own hands. He wanted to put the woman behind bars to get rid of her once and for all. As a result of the trial, she lost her company and, as I said, her reputation. But she had good lawyers. After she was acquitted, many newspapers had to pay her high compensations. She gave a magazine a detailed interview and then appeared on national television for _one_ time. This put the whole thing to an end. Today she has a new expanding company in her new hometown.“  
  
         Claire had listened attentively. She put her hands over her face and took a deep breath. Then she looked at Jamie and asked:  
  
         "Do … you trust _this_ … _David_ … de Koning?”  
  
         "Yes, I’ve known him for almost ten years now and he’s never disappointed me to this day.“  
  
         "Good,” she said, “then I rely on your judgment.”  
  
         "That means we’re working with him?“  
  
         She hesitated for a moment, but then said firmly:  
  
         "Yes. Even if it seems almost hopeless, but if I have a chance to tell what really happened … Yes, you can figure out an agreement with him.”  
  
         Jamie smiled. This first big hurdle was done. Now he had to talk to her about the diaries.  
   
         "Then there’s something else, Claire. I was at your house to see if everything is all right. Adso is fine. He is fed regularly and is well.“  
  
         "Oh, that’s good news! Please greet Mrs. Fritz and tell her how grateful I am to her.”  
  
         "For sure.“  
  
         Jamie nodded and bit back a big grin. At the same time, he was pleased that the news of Adso made Claire smiling again for the first time on that day. He decided to mention him more often.  
  
         "When I was in your apartment, I noticed that there is a room in the attic. I went upstairs and saw that everything is still fine. The room was not searched by the police. I looked around a bit … ”  
  
         Claire stared at him, feeling her blood pressure rise. What had he found in her private affairs that he urgently needed to discuss with her?

 

”The Traveler’s Notebook” by [AnnaBetlejewska](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Ftraveler---s-notebook-notizen-2245970%2F&t=NWNhNzk3YzM0ODBiYmYwMmYxZjJjMDZjNGUwODBiZmRiZTJlYWEwNyxrNlNPWjRxSg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182270678795%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-16-getting&m=1)

 

         "I’ve noticed that there are a number of yearbooks on your desk and I … am I right if I assume that these are your _diaries_?“  
  
         "Yes,” she answered softly.  
  
         "I have not looked into any of the books, Claire. I would never do that. You are my client and I want to protect your privacy. However, we can’t be sure that the police will not search your house again. I would, therefore, like to take these diaries and also your laptop and give it to a person I trust. For safekeeping.“  
  
         "Why don’t you keep these things with you, Jamie?”  
  
         "I think it’s safer to keep them somewhere else. While there are high legal hurdles to search a law firm or the private house of a lawyer, you never know … “  
  
         "And _where_ would you keep my books?”

         "I would put all into a box and seal the package. Then I would hand it over to my secretary, Tessa Lüttgenjohann, for safekeeping. She is very reliable. I can assure you, she will not touch the package. Your things are in good hands with her.“  
  
      One more time she put her hands over her face and took a deep breath. Then she said:

         "Seems I have no other choice.”  
  
         "So may I do it as proposed?“  
  
         "Yes.”  
  
         "Is there anything else you want me to keep safe?“  
  
         "No, nothing I can think of right now.”  
  
         "Fine, then we would have discussed that as well.“  
  
         "Thank you for taking care of … all this.”  
  
         "Of course. Is there anything else I can do? Do you have any problems in prison?“  
  
         "No, I’m just very exhausted.”  
  
         "I understand. We have discussed everything for today. I will try to come back as soon as possible.“  
  
         Jamie had risen and shaken her hand.  
  
         "Goodbye, Claire.”  
  
         "Goodbye, Jamie.“  
  
         He had already turned to the door and was about to press the button that would inform the officer that the meeting had ended and she had to open the door. But then he remembered something else.  
  
         "Oh, just one more question!”  
  
         Claire, who was standing in front of the prisoner’s door on the other side of the room and was about to push the button, turned around once more.  
  
         "Yes, Jamie?“  
  
         "Tell me, were Joe and Gail Abernathy allowed to visit you?”  
  
         Claire’s face darkened and Jamie sensed that the subject touched something very painful inside of Claire’s soul.

 

“Saal” by [stux](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fsaal-kongress-architektur-geb%25C3%25A4ude-1489768%2F&t=YWU0MThiN2FlMmRjY2E1NDQ1MjM1YWFkZDNjZTYxYWU0YWYzNGIyYyxrNlNPWjRxSg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182270678795%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-16-getting&m=1)

 

         "Yes, … yes, they came for a visit. The judge allowed them to visit me for 30 minutes. _30 minutes!_ “  
  
         "Claire, that’s the usual duration. Longer …”  
  
         "We had to meet in this _big_ hall where there is _no_ _privacy at all._ “  
  
         Her voice had begun to tremble again. Then he saw that tears were running down her cheeks again and with a few big steps he was at her side.   
  
         "Claire, what happened?”  
  
         "Ach, nothing,“ she protested. But he did not give in.  
  
         ” _Please_ tell me what happened.“  
  
         A new stream of tears ran down her cheeks and she began to sob. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a handkerchief which he handed her.  
  
         She wiped her face and blew her nose.  
  
         "Thank you,” she said in a tear-stained voice. Once again he asked:  
  
         "Please, tell me what happened!“  
  
         "Oh, really nothing. Joe and Gail … they … they wanted to hug me, but they were not allowed to. I … I know that’s not allowed, but … ah! Everything is taken away, that could give you at least a little strength! ”  
  
         He looked into her crying eyes and wanted to kiss her on the spot.  
  
         "Claire,“ he said softly, "it’s against all the rules of an attorney-client relationship. But … if I can leave you with some strength, then … then I would like to hug you … _now_.”  
  
         She looked at him in astonishment, but then a smile appeared on her face.  
  
         "That … that … you would do …?“  
  
         He nodded and smiled as well.  
  
         "If I’m allowed?"  

         "Yes. Yes of course,” she whispered.  
  
         Before she could add more, he had already wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight.  
  
         "I promise you that I … that we … our law office … will do everything to get you out of here. And anyone who pollutes your name will pay for it. Trust me.“  
  
         She raised her head and looked at him.  
  
         "I trust you, Jamie.”  
  
         He pulled her back to him and rested her head against his chest. It seemed the most natural thing in the world, for she had slipped into his embrace without any resistance. Then he closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her hair. He felt how the warmth of her body began to warm his own as well and it took tremendous strength not to let his hands caress her entire body. _How would it feel to brush through the dark curls of her hair with his hands? How would it feel to kiss the full lips of her tender mouth? How would it be to make love and become completely one with her?_   Before he knew it, Jamie felt an unwanted physical reaction. He pulled his right leg tight against the left and then slowly pulled away from her.  
  
         "Claire, I have to go now, yet I’ll be back as soon as possible. This can take a few days. But in the meantime, I will be working on a strategy for your trial.“

         Once again, he pulled her briefly to himself.  
  
         "See you then, Claire. Try to calm down a bit. I know that’s not easy. But you will need all your strength for the coming trial.”  
  
         She looked at him and nodded. Then she slowly broke away from him.  
  
         "Thank you. Thank you for everything.“  
  
         He smiled again, then turned to leave.

* * *

**_Thank you for reading. If you have questions, just sent me a DM or put it in the comments. You are very welcome :) - Next time, read: “Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (7): Sharing Joy and Sorrow (5)”_ **

 


	17. Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (7): Sharing Joy and Sorrow (5)

”Trauer” by [Free-Photos](https://underthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com/post/182328535700/die-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-kapitel-16)

 

**3:00 am Sunday morning of Whitsun weekend 2020,  
two days after Claire’s release from prison**

 

        _Jamie found it hard to fall asleep. He missed Claire next to him. But at some point exhaustion and sleep overwhelmed him. He slept peacefully, dreaming of wooded cliffs and white beaches until a blood-curdling scream tore him from his dreams._

_“Claire!”_

* * *

 

  
        His cry of her name - a seemingly automatic response to her cry of fear - rang through the dark cottage. The moment he switched on the bedside lamp with one hand, he threw off the coverlet with the other one. Then he hurried on in the direction of Claire’s room. He almost stumbled over the sleepy and utterly surprised Bismarck lying on the small rug in front of his bed.

        In the light of the bedside lamp, he saw Claire sitting on the edge of her bed. She held onto the frame of it with both hands. Her face was pale. Drops of sweat beaded from her forehead and she looked exhausted, even scared.

        "Claire! What happened?“

        Carefully he sat down beside her and put an arm around her trembling body. She slipped into his embrace and put her head against his chest, utterly exhausted.

        "Nothing, Jamie. Nothing … _really_ bad. It was …,” she breathed in slowly and deeply,“ … it was … nothing but a _bad_ dream.”

        They sat side by side for several minutes, and Jamie felt herself settling down. When her breathing returned to nearly normal, he asked:

        "What did you dream of, Claire? What scared you _so much_? “

        She was silent for a moment. Then answered softly:

        "Since the death of Frank … I dream … every night of it … how I … found him. His pale face … all the blood … Oh, Jamie, _all the blood!_ … And then it’s like … as if it happens all over again … how I try to keep him alive … but all I do is … pointless, … meaningless. As I rush to the phone and call the ambulance. The policemen are coming … I see my bloodied hands and the thought hits me what a failure I am. I couldn’t save him. I wasn’t a good wife for him …. all these years … I couldn’t give him the children he longed for … and when he needed me the most … when he was fighting for his life  … I wasn’t able to save him. My whole life with him was … _one big failure. I let him down, I failed him so much._ ”

        " _Since_ his death? _Every night?_ “ Jamie asked horrified.

        "Yes, … every night,” she answered wearily.

        Claire began to cry quietly and inside of Jamie’s soul rose a wave of enormous anger, which he could only hold back with difficulty. Even beyond his death, this monster managed to provoke guilt in the woman _he_ loved. Even now and after she was cleared of all charges, this narcissist was overshadowing her soul. Jamie knew that these feelings would not change overnight. But he also knew that he would not leave her alone that night. He gently started stroking her arm with his right hand.

        "Can we go?“

        "Go? Where?"        

        "Over there, in my room.”

        “But …?”

        “I will not leave you alone in this state, Claire.”

        The tone of his voice was serious and allowed no argument. She nodded and before she could get up, he had taken her in his arms and carried her to the opposite room. There he carefully placed her on the unused side of the bed.

        "Come, cover yourself so you don’t get cold. I’m going to pick you something to drink. Water or tea?“

        "Do we have chamomile tea?” Claire asked as she slipped under the covers.

        “For sure. I’ll be right back.”

 

”Über dem Bett” by [Arcaion](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fersatzlampe-zimmer-m%25C3%25B6bel-3133259%2F&t=ZGZiNDUwM2U2Mzk5M2YzZmY4OWI5MTQ2MzY1NmJkMDZlYTI1M2M5MixUMWlQZzlHNw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182731310515%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-17-geheimer&m=1)

 

        Jamie disappeared with Bismarck in tow. Claire sat with her back against the wall of the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest. Suddenly Adso appeared in the room. He had jumped out of bed when Claire started screaming and had taken refuge under a dresser. Now he looked around carefully and when everything seemed safe, he jumped onto the bed.

        “Come on, honey,” Claire said, tapping with her hand on the seat to her right. Adso followed, sat down and let himself be cuddled. A few minutes later, Jamie appeared with a tray holding a large cup of tea and a small plate of biscuits.

        “Here, have a drink and take a biscuit. A little bit of sugar will boost your serotonin level,” he said smiling as he placed the cup and plate on the bedside table by her side.

        "Thank you.“

        "Gladly. I go and turn off the light in your room.”

        Claire nodded. Then she realized that her biscuits were in danger.

        “Don’t, Adso! Sugar isn’t good for your health!”

        When Adso made no effort to give her words a hearing, let alone obedience, she unceremoniously took the cat and put him on the other side. Then she took a few gulps of the still hot tea.

        "This cat is a nuisance, at least when it comes to something edible,“ she said as Jamie returned to the room.

        "That’s right,” he answered with a serious expression, adding:

        "Adso is as effective as the biblical locust plague that devoured Egypt. Only that he doesn’t ruin any wheat fields, but the balance of your bank account. We should call him the fur locust.“

        Claire, who had finished her tea, had to pull herself together so as not to cough up the liquid she had just taken. Then she put the cup on the bedside table.

         Jamie took her free hand and kissed it.

         "It’s good to see you smiling again.”

         She moved her hand to his cheek and tenderly stroked it with her thumb.

         "Yesterday night … I even slept through.“

         "I know,” he replied, kissing her hand again.

         "It was the first time … in … many … months.“

         "I know and that’s why I do not want you to sleep alone in the future,” he whispered.

         She looked at him in astonishment.

         "But … but will that not ….“

         "Become difficult? I admit it will not be easy. But I can stand that. What I can _not_ stand is seeing you suffer, Claire."        

         Tears welled up in her eyes. With the hand still holding his cheek, she pulled him slowly to her lips until they touched. When they parted, he looked at her for a moment. Then he asked smiling:

         "Was anything easy in the last six months?"        

         "No,” she whispered.        

         "And yet we have survived! Not only have we survived all the difficulties, but we’ve also won! Why shouldn’t we succeed now or in the future?“        

         Claire nodded.       

         "We should try to get some sleep. If we want to explore the island during the day, we need our strength. Good night, Claire."        

         Jamie kissed her hand the last time, then turned and switched off the light.        

         "Good night, Jamie."        

         Claire also turned around. She put Adso on the bedside rug and turned off the bedside lamp. She knew that at some point the cat would jump on the bed again and probably make itself comfortable at her feet. But for now, she had only one wish - to stretch again and then fall asleep as soon as possible.

 

“Mann” by [Free-Photos](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Feinsam-mann-pub-person-erwachsene-1149764%2F&t=MDgxZjZhMmNkMjA4ZWNjMWVkZWY3NzA2MTI3YjUyY2QxMDU0N2U2NyxUMWlQZzlHNw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182731310515%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-17-geheimer&m=1)

 

         For a long time, Jamie paid attention to the sounds coming from Claire’s side. Her breathing had been somewhat normalized, but her movements were a testimony to the inner turmoil that had been flushed to the surface in her dreams. When she finally seemed to sleep peacefully, he was able to relax also.

        While he lay awake, he thought about her words. If she had really dreamed of that bloody crime scene night after night in the past fourteen months - and there was no reason not to believe her - were there other things that tormented her soul? Much more important than such details, yet, seemed to him the question of how he could help her. For a few semesters, he had attended lectures in legal and criminal psychology as a guest student. But that was at least a decade ago - years before that subject became a separate course of study. No, this knowledge wouldn’t help him to help Claire. But was she ready to accept professional help? Something told him that it was not the right time to ask her about it. He would have to start small. It had been intuitively clear to him at their first meeting in the State Criminal Police Office that this whole thing was not a 100-meter sprint but a marathon. However, after his talks with Claire in prison, and especially after hearing her detailed account of her life with Randall, he realized that the term _marathon_ was inadequate. If he judged it correctly, then he had to prepare for nothing but an _Ironman_. But he was ready to go all the way for her.

        One first step could be to balance the heaviness that lay on her soul with lightness and joy. Maybe the trip during the day would distract her and help her to relax. Jamie had planned some things that he thought would give her joy. But he would ask her first. He was eager to give her the opportunity to choose for herself what she wanted to do or to see. Besides, Jamie pursued another idea, with which he hoped to provide a kind of inner relief and relaxation. But it was too early to talk about that too. He would have to wait until the right moment.

 

“Bett” by [Dibjo](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fbett-blatt-tuch-abstrakt-innenraum-2539993%2F&t=YzNmZDEwMTRjYmEzYTZjYzFjOGM1ZWE0NDJjMjFlZjU4ZjExMmU5ZCxuUXdMUnkxYQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182877184865%2Fthe-murderess-from-the-grunewald-17-secret&m=1)

 

        The first rays of the new morning were almost an hour old when Claire awoke. She lay on her stomach and heard a soft purr. Shortly after, she felt Adso lolling under her left arm. She gave him a gentle push and muttered:

        "Out with you, you burdock!”

        The cat landed on all fours on the bedside rug. Claire turned and hoped to find some rest. But at that very moment, she was suddenly catapulted into reality by the raw and wet tongue of a dachshund that left a damp trail all over her face.

         "Ihhhgitt!”

        When she looked up startled, she saw an enthusiastic Bismarck, who had apparently been waiting for one of the two human beings to come back to life. Jamie, his owner, was lying on his back, still deep in the _Land of Smiles_ , his right arm buried under Claire’s pillow.

        _“Dr. Fraser!”_ she said in a loud voice that would have honored the commanding tone of every Prussian parade ground.

         Jamie slowly opened his sleepy eyes and looked at her.

         "Good morning, Dr. Beauchamp.“

        _"Dr. Fraser! Nice to see you have come back to the land of the living.”_

         Claire’s voice was quieter, but still very decisive.

         "Yes, Dr. Beauchamp?“

         "Should we _ever_ share _a marriage bed_ …”

         Jamie’s eyes widened and in an instant, he was completely awake,

         "Yeah, Dr. Beauchamp? I hear?“ he asked expectantly, straightening up.

         "If we ever share a marriage bed, then I want _a marriage contract_  …before we get married!”

         "A marriage contract …“        

         "Yes! It needs to contain only one paragraph. "        

         "And what kind of paragraph would that be?"        

          _"No animals are allowed in the marriage bed!”_         

         Jamie grinned all over his face.        

         "With that,“ he said, "I completely agree, Dr. Beauchamp."        

         Claire looked at him in surprise.        

         "It’s not a problem for me,” he said with a smile, nodding affirmatively.          
         "You agree?“ She asked in disbelief.        

         "Sure! I don’t want to have any cats in my marriage bed, Claire."        

         "I said animals, Jamie. _Animals. Plural._ "        

         "Yes, no cats - _plural_ \- in the marriage bed."        

          _"Not only cats, Dr. Fraser, but all animals.”_         

         "As I said, no problem, Dr. Beauchamp.“        

         "You have _no_ problem damning Bismarck out of bed?” she asked in surprise. Jamie sat cross-legged in front of her and had taken the dog in his arms. Now he began to scratch Bismarck behind the ears.      

         "Bismarck? Oh, there must have been a mistake, Dr. Beauchamp. Bismarck is _a dachshund_.“        

         ” _An animal!_ And that does mean he’s not allowed in a marriage bed. If there ever is … “       

         "Dr. Beauchamp, this must be a misunderstanding. Dachshunds are no animals. Dachshunds are little miracles we do not deserve. And if we handle them properly, they will become the second chamber of our heart. How am I supposed to be able to sleep without my heart?"       

         As he said so, he caressed the dog’s head and grinned.       

         "Jamie! You … you … _damn … lawyer!_ "        

         Claire turned on her side and pulled the covers over her head to hide her grin. Jamie sighed. Then he turned to the dog he was still cuddling:        

         "Have you heard, Bismarck? I really tried everything. But this judge is relentless. I have to banish you. But do not worry about my heart, I’m going to apologize every day with a piece of meat. "        

         Before he knew it, Claire’s pillow flew towards him and hit him on the head.

         "Uff! Come on, Bismarck, I think we better leave now."        

         He put the dog on the rug and got out of bed. Arriving at Claire’s side, he flipped the blanket over her head and quickly gave her a kiss on the forehead.         
      "I’ll take a shower and then I’ll make breakfast for us and _the fur monsters,_ ” he announced.        

         "Coffee! I need a _strong_ coffee!“ muttered a voice from under the covers.        

         "Sure,” he mumbled back as he left the room, smiling.

 


	18. Preparing for war (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While we follow Dr. Fraser through his day (after his visit to Dr. Beauchamp in prison) we get some more insights into the early life and the person of James Fraser and his family.

“Berlin - Blick zum Brandenburger Tor und zum Roten Rathaus”  
  
by [Interculture01](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fberlin-hauptstadt-deutschland-stadt-3931061%2F&t=ODUyNmQyODMwOTYxYTI5ZDk4YzE2YTM5Y2M5Mzc3NmJmYzc0OTMxNCx4NVE0aHVTbQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F183218007765%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-18&m=1)

 

          Jamie left the prison through the main entrance. He meant to walk on clouds. Yes, everything seemed to be floating. Although he had said goodbye to Claire ten minutes ago, he still smelled her hair and deodorant. Closing his eyes for a moment, Jamie knew that he would recognize that smell everywhere and under all circumstances.  
        She allowed him, to comfort her, let him embrace her. Secretly, since their first meeting, he had wished to touch her, let his hands slide over her hair. But he had not dared to hope that would ever happen. It seemed to him that the sudden fulfillment of this wish had opened a whole new dimension of life to him. ‘She becomes my wife. She will be my wife! I will share my life with her.’ The words ran like a mantra in an endless loop through his head and he felt as if not blood, but pure adrenaline rushed through his veins.  
        Shortly thereafter, he unlocked the door of his BMW. When he sat down and started the engine, he was tempted to drive the car onto the nearest highway to drive its engine out unto its speed limit. That would help him to come down from his adrenaline rush.  
        But no, today he would resist this temptation. He would have done so before. Jamie had not always been the disciplined, thoughtful acting person he had become in the last fifteen years. There was a time when he had lived aimlessly and recklessly. His father was a respected, even famous lawyer, his family had money. What could happen to him? The world just waited to be explored by him! But the painful experiences that life had allotted for him forced James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser to take time to reflect on his life’s path.  
        The first heavy blow that hit him was the unexpected death of his mother Ellen. It was a Sunday just a few days before her 52nd birthday. While the family spent the bright summer afternoon together in the garden of their country estate near Potsdam, Ellen collapsed abruptly next to one of her favorite rose bushes. Jenny, who was setting the table for the afternoon coffee on the terrace, was the first to realize that something was wrong with her mother. She saw her stumble and then fall. Without thinking, Jenny pulled her smartphone out of her pocket and called the emergency call center. Then she called for her father and brother. When her husband appeared on the terrace, she yelled at him to keep the children away from the garden and keep them occupied in the house. Ian did not know what had happened, but he knew his wife well enough to know that her wish would have a good reason. As Jamie and Brian came running into the garden, Jenny was already kneeling beside her mother. But all attempts to help her were in vain. Before the ambulance arrived, they had lost her. Since Ellen had been an otherwise perfectly healthy woman and the emergency doctor didn’t find a natural cause of death, he certified an unnatural death. Two policemen came and questioned the family members. Then the corpse was brought by an undertaker to the Brandenburg State Institute of Legal Medicine. There, according to the order of the public prosecutor, the autopsy of the deceased was to be performed. Five days later, the family was informed that Ellen Fraser had died of an (as yet undiscovered) brain aneurysm. Ten days after her sudden death Ellen Fraser was laid to rest in the Fraser’s Family Mausoleum at the Old Potsdam Cemetery. Although Jamie was already 25 years old at the time, he needed years to process the loss of his beloved mother.  
  


“Cemetry - Potsdam” by [PeterBe](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fabschied-friedhof-potsdam-bornstedt-965723%2F&t=MDZjZjZkNDc2MDdjOGJmODU5ZTFlOTFhYjM1MTczNWMzZTUzODY5NCx4NVE0aHVTbQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F183218007765%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-18&m=1)

 

         But his mother’s death had not been the first major loss the family had suffered. Jamie’s brother Robert had not completed his first year of life. The doctors diagnosed sudden infant death syndrome as the reason for the sudden demise of the third son of Ellen and Brian Fraser. Jamie, who was still a teenager at that time, tried to dupe the grief he saw and experienced in his parents’ life. But in his soul, it all left deep traces. For the first time in his young life, he began to wonder what meaning life could have if it could end anytime.  
        Two years after the loss of his mother, another accident hit the Fraser family. Jamie’s brother William, the first born of the family and his great role model, was killed in a car accident. He was only 32 years old. They never came to knew whether it was really the icy road, that caused his car to crash against a tree, or whether William might have chosen that kind of death by himself. Only days before, his fiancée had separated from him. He had met Annabelle a few years earlier in Paris, and for William, she had been the woman of his life. Annabelle’s love did not seem to go that far. She did not even appear at William’s funeral.  
        After William’s death, the family finally hoped to come to rest and for almost three years this wish seemed to come true. Looking back, Jamie was grateful that his family had used every opportunity to spend time together. However, when one morning - he was working on case files in his office - that call from Mr. Schaller reached him, the time seemed to stand still. The steward told him that he had found Brian Fraser lifeless in the hall of his mansion. The hurriedly summoned doctor could only determine the death of Jamie’s father. The doctors later explained that a severe stroke had affected Brian so badly that he died of it.  
        Everything that happened then, Jamie experienced like through a dense fog. Brian’s funeral. The opening of his father’s last will. The assumption of management responsibility in the law firm. He was grateful that at least Jenny was alive. Ned Gowan’s help in the professional and business challenges that Brian’s death brought upon the last son of the Fraser family had been invaluable. Jamie knew he probably would not have made it without Ned’s help.  
        Brian’s death triggered a feeling in Jamie’s soul that he could hardly describe. He felt as if his life had come to a point where it could come to an end. He was not tired of life, but in a way, he was fed up with life. Brian Fraser had always been for him as a big, supporting pillar in the house of his life. He never pushed himself upon his children, but he was always there when they needed him. Jamie always looked forward to working with his father for many more years. Maybe one day he would marry and start a family. He imagined his father playing not only with Jenny’s but also with his own children. After Brian’s death, this all seemed to him pointless.

 

“Preussischer Kavalleriesäbel aus dem 19. Jahrhundert”  
by [Silar [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)]](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3APreu%25C3%259Fischer_Kavalleries%25C3%25A4bel_aus_dem_19Jh.jpg&t=NDNjNjc3MWRhY2FlZjcyNDc1NjhjNDRjZTg4MTIwMTFmNDcwZDM0NCx4NVE0aHVTbQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F183218007765%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-18&m=1)

 

        Of course, there was the law firm that had to be run - now by him and Ned. Jamie was not an irresponsible person. He would fulfill his duties. On the day of his father’s funeral, the family saber had been handed to him and now hung in a display above a dresser in his bedroom. The first Prussian-born Fraser to carry this weapon had been an ancestor named Simon Frederick William Fraser. This one of his forefathers had fought in the Prussian Wars of Liberation between 1813 and 1815. Since then, the weapon had been handed down from one generation to the next. For over 200 years now, it had been the indelible symbol that generations of Frasers had done their duty and that this was now expected of him.  
        But without the day-to-day meeting with his father, their shared jokes, and the earnest conversation about the development of individual cases, he had lost the joy of his past work. In the morning he arose out of a sense of duty, drove to his office out of duty, read and edited his case files out of duty, went to the court out of duty, defended his clients out of duty and drove home again.  
        Several times he had thought that - had he been born in ancient Greece - he would have made a good Stoic. If there was no other kind of motivation, one had to remember that everyone was responsible for fulfilling his duties. “Happiness” or “becoming happy” could not be a life goal. For one thing, there was no standard for what “happiness” was. Everybody had a different understanding of the word. And most of the time, what people saw as “happiness” was dependent on external circumstances and therefore always temporary. The fulfillment of duties, however, for Jamie, arose from an inner conviction. Therefore, unlike many others, he did not regard the fulfillment of his duties as a compulsion, but as an integral part of his honor.  
        Of course, there was Jenny, his sister. But Jenny had her own family, her own duties, her own worries. In addition, his sister had changed so much since the death of her father. Their relationship had lost its former easiness.  
  
        But then he had met Claire and it seemed to him that for the first time in nearly four years, the sun would break through the dark cloud he had been living under. He had instantly fallen in love with her and today he had come one step closer to her.  
        He would not waste the power that was released in him by this experience in a ride without a speed limit on the highway. He would use this power for more important things. Now it was time to prepare for the “war”, to inspect “the weapons” and “the troops”.

        Jamie drove the car out of the parking lot of the prison and to his house, adjusted to the speed of city traffic. There he let Bismarck take a short trip to the garden and gave the dachshund some petting. Afterward, he put a frozen pasta dish into the microwave and while the machine was humming, he and Bismarck climbed the stairs to the loft. Ten minutes later he rolled a dusty silver suitcase into the kitchen.  
  
        “We’ll clean it when I’ve eaten it,” he told Bismarck, putting the food out of the microwave on a plate he put on the table. Bismarck jumped on the bench and looked expectantly at Jamie, who had also taken a seat.  
  
        “No, you will not get anything, you little greedy monster. You’ll get some dry food later. ”  
   
       The dog, who had recognized the rebuke in Jamie’s eyes, rested his head on the cushion and let out a loud sigh.  
  
        “Character traits like a frustrated human,” Jamie thought but avoided looking at Bismarck. A look out of the eyes of the little black sausage and he would give him a noodle. And of course, it would not stay with one noodle. In the end, the devoured little guy would eat half of the pack and if he returned late at night … Oh no! In addition, ready meals were unhealthy for animals. All these spices, salts, additives! No! No mercy. Not today, dachshund!

 

“The look of the dachshund” by [Brummeier](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fdackel-dackelblick-tier-s%25C3%25A4ugetier-3234675%2F&t=OTBjNmE0YTRlNTg0NzA3ZDhlZTY3MTczZWE3NGQ5M2I0YmYxY2RhZSx4NVE0aHVTbQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F183218007765%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-18&m=1)

 

         When Jamie had finished his meal, he cleaned the suitcase. Then he filled Bismarck’s water bowl and poured dry food into the feeding bowl. Wherever Bismarck was at the time, he had heard the sound and had returned to the kitchen, apparently at the speed of lightning. While the dog ate, Jamie stroked his back. Then he put a bovine chew bone in Bismarck’s doghouse and left the kitchen. He stowed the suitcase in the trunk of his car and drove it to Claire’s apartment.  
  
        Having arrived at Candestrasse, he carefully opened the door as usual, and when Adso did not appear immediately, he entered the house. He parked the suitcase in the living room and then went to the kitchen. Here he cleaned the cat’s feeding bowl. Then he filled the drinking bowl with water, took out a can of cat food, and the moment he put the opener on the can, Adso appeared. This time he did not jump at Jamie but sat down expectantly next to the bowls.  
  
        “It seems you have learned your lesson, old boy. Well. As a reward, you get a can of 'Chicken Royal’.  
  
        He filled the contents of the can into the bowl and the cat began to eat immediately.  
  
        "Enjoy your meal!”  
  
        Jamie took the door hook from the cleaning cabinet and went to the first floor. There he opened the hatch that led to the loft and slowly pulled down the retractable staircase. When he reached the top of the stairs, he turned on the light and looked around. Then he let out an audible sigh. Nothing had changed. Everything was just as he had left it. Nobody had been here.  
        He walked over to Claire’s desk and grabbed all the books that contained personal notes in a large plastic carry bag he had taken from the kitchen. Then he opened the desk drawers and took out everything that looked like personal papers. He also put these documents in the big bag. Finally, he took the laptop with the cable and put it on top of the books and the papers. He then placed the screen behind the leather sofa so that nobody would take notice of it. With a duster that he had also brought from the kitchen, he wiped the dust from the small table and from Claire’s desk. There was no longer any sign that there had been a laptop or books in these places. Carefully he went down the stairs. The bag was heavy and he did not want to accidentally drop it. Back on the first floor, he closed the roof hatch and went down to the ground floor with his heavy cargo. There he opened the suitcase and packed the books, papers, and the laptop into it. When he was almost done, he heard a whining sound from the kitchen. He had shot the door behind him and locked it because he did not want the animal to follow him to the loft this time. Jamie went and opened the door. He expected Adso to come out, stroke around his legs and then follow him to one of the sofas. Inwardly, he had already adjusted to the thought that he had to cuddle the cat for at least a quarter of an hour. But the Adso shot past him, jumped up the stairs, and then Jamie heard that the animal pushed open the door to the bathroom. Obviously, there was something more important to Adso than being cuddled. Jamie packed the last things into the suitcase and closed it as quietly as possible. He would clean the litter box the next day. Today there were more important things for him too.  
  
        From Claire’s house, he drove to his office. Once there, he greeted Tessa Lüttgenjohann and asked her to bring him a pot of coffee with two cups. When the secretary arrived at his office shortly thereafter, she carried a tray on which the desired items stood. She set the dishes on the table in the sitting area and Jamie asked her to take a seat. He poured coffee for her and him. As he sat down, he began to tell Tessa about the contents of the silver-colored suitcase. She immediately agreed to keep it safely in the basement of her house. Jamie had not expected otherwise. When he first met Joe Abernathy and his wife Gail, he had wondered if Claire and Joe’s relationship resembled the relationship that linked him to Tessa. Professional yet friendly, not too tight and yet trusting. Everyone knew that this relationship would never go any further, but everyone would give the last shirt for the other. Jamie was grateful that he had found someone like Tessa, someone he could trust one hundred percent.  
        Since the death of his father and everything that happened after that, there were not many people he trusted. His colleagues were among them, especially Ned Gowan and Ben Hombach. Tessa Lüttgenjohann and the Schallers. David de Koning and his brother-in-law Ian.  
         Ian was more than a brother-in-law. He was a real friend. Jenny had met him during a stay in Scotland, fell in love with him and convinced him - in her very own way - to marry her. Ian left Scotland for her, and together they lived with their growing band of children at the country estate of the Frasers near Potsdam. By diligence and inventiveness and of course by the knowledge he had acquired in the context of his studies of agriculture, Ian had changed the former run-down farm estate into a flourishing company again. At first, he had started to order the fields and meadows belonging to the estate. Then he created a management plan for the forest, which also belonged to the estate, and leased parts of it. Ian also started a small animal breeding business, which he expanded a little more every year. First, he bought pigs, then cattle and two years ago he started to build a small stud. In the meantime, Ian’s work also bore fruit financially. Jamie, who, like his father, Ned Gowan, and several others had supported the project with a generous financial investment at the beginning, received a slightly higher return each year. He used to visit his family in Brandenburg almost every weekend. He loved being outdoors and spending time with his nephews and nieces. It had always been a pleasure to talk to Ian about his latest plans, and about the visible growth and prosperity of family estate.  
        But Jamie had not been there for nearly four years. For almost four years he had not seen Jenny or the children in person. Jamie sent gifts to the children for birthdays and holidays. Jenny and Ian got their gifts too. Of course, he also got gifts and card greetings in return. But his only personal connection he had to them was Ian. Jenny, however, knew nothing about it. Her husband had set up an e-mail address she did not know. Through this account - brothers_in_arms@goldmail.de - he communicated with Jamie - the_worlds_best_uncle@goldmail.de - and also provided him with current photos of his nieces and nephews. Only now and then was it possible for Ian to come to Berlin. Then he combined business with private affairs and met with his brother-in-law. Although Ian had tried several times, he had failed to persuade Jamie to visit Potsdam. Too deep and too fresh were the wounds Jenny had dug into Jamie’s soul. Ian wondered if they could ever become the family they once were.  
  
        After the short coffee break, Tessa reminded Jamie that the next day at 10:30 am, the telephone conference with Prof. Dr. Nerz was scheduled and that she had reserved for him and David de Koning a table at the Ferenc’s for that evening. He had three hours left by that time. However, he should plan at least half an hour of driving time because the traffic news had predicted a traffic jam for the inner city. Just another visit of just another foreign head of state in Berlin. Nothing new. Nothing important. Then Tessa took the tray and turned to go. Jamie thanked her and sat down at his desk.

 

“Victory column Berlin” by [LoboStudioHamburg](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fsiegess%25C3%25A4ule-berlin-hauptstadt-1122099%2F&t=NDBmMjdiYWY3N2ZiNjJhYWE4MDU4M2IzODZiYzQyMTdkNmY3YzNkYSx4NVE0aHVTbQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F183218007765%2Fdie-m%C3%B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-18&m=1)

 

         He looked out of the large panoramic window towards the Great Star. Twilight had already set in and soon the illumination of the Victory Column would start. Anyone who knew the history of the monument knew that it was not just a monument of victory after a war. It was a constant reminder of the wrestling of this nation for its liberty and its unity. First in the Liberation Wars against Napoleon from 1813 - 1815, then in the Wars of Unification between 1864 - 1871. For Jamie, it was also a synonym for the resilience with which this country had fought for its reunification the 40 years after World War II. He loved the view from his office because there was something encouraging about the monument. And that encouragement he needed very much. Right now, when he had to prepare a “war” - when it was necessary to “muster” his weapons and his troops.

* * *

 

**_Thank you for reading. Next time, read “The Murderess from the Grunewald (19): Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (8): Sharing Joy and Sorrow (6)”  
_ **

* * *

****


	19. Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (8): Sharing Joy and Sorrow (6a)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We accompany Jamie and Claire on a trip to the chalk cliffs of the island of Rügen.

“Island of Rügen / Germany / Baltic Sea / View to the Cliff ‘Königsstuhl’ (King’s Seat) by [itsme](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fr%25C3%25BCgen-kreidefelsen-meer-bucht-341389%2F&t=MDAxZjM5YjM2ZGIzYjZjZWM0ZjIxNWVlOThhNDMyMzk1MWIzZWJhZSxtQlBXZFVMTQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184486515635%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-19-geheimer&m=1)  


**Sunday, Pentecost, 2020, two days after Claire’s release from prison**

  
         The day could not have started any better. After Claire drove him and Bismarck out of the bedroom, Jamie showered extensively and got dressed. On the way to the kitchen, he quietly crept back into the bedroom and then, with a quick jerk, pulled the bedcover off Claire’s body. Adso, who slept at Claire’s feet, leaped off the bed with a loud hiss and crept under it.  
  
         "Get up, Sassenach!“ Jamie said loudly but friendly.  
  
         Claire answered with  a loud "Ah!” Followed by a series of indistinct curses that ended with a loud “Bloody Scot!”.

         "Do not pretend to be tired! We do not want to waste this beautiful sunny day. Take a shower! I promise: You get a strong coffee as a reward.“  
  
         As he spoke, Jamie had opened both windows and hung Claire’s bedcover over the windowsill of one. Before she had a chance to grab his bedcover and disappear under it, he grabbed it and hung it out of the other window.  
  
         "Get out of bed, my lazy one. The island is waiting for us to conquer it.”       
         Claire made an unverifiable sound, then she stretched and said:

  
         "Dr. Fraser! Did not you explain to me that any kind of torture is prohibited by the constitution of this country?“  
  
         Jamie sighed. No, he would not get involved in a legal discussion right now. He would not even look at her. For in a way, Claire was the human version of Bismarck. Her eyes were not deep black as those of the dog but reflected the many facets of amber.  Yet, when she looked at him in this incomparable way of hers, he became just as weak, if not even weaker …  
         These two! They knew exactly how to sneak into his heart! And since they had settled there, nothing, absolutely nothing in his life, was safe from them. If you gave them a little finger, he thought, they took your whole hand - or bit into it. It was useless to fight with them. He just couldn’t win. Inwardly he had to smile because he knew only too well that he didn’t want to win. He was too happy to surrender to these looks. But now he reminded himself inwardly:  
  
         "Not now!”  
  
         If he would look at her for a moment longer, he would take the covers out of the windows and spend the rest of the day with her in that room. He turned around, shouting          
  
         "Bismarck!“  
  
         and ran down the stairs to the kitchen. 

  


“Katzenpfote” by [Lemonsandtea](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fkatze-pfote-bett-schlafen-haustier-3695153%2F&t=MTVjZDhhZTM0ZWVlYjhiOGFmZjY5OGUwNzkyMTAyMTliYTViMjQ4MyxtQlBXZFVMTQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184486515635%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-19-geheimer&m=1)

  
         Claire stretched again. Then she noticed Adso jumping back onto the bed. Running over Jamie’s side, he sat down beside her and made himself comfortable. She sat up and took the cat on her lap.  
  
         "Come, sweetheart. We have to get up. The master of the house decided that we slept enough. But if I understand him correctly, you’ll have the rest of the day free of us and the dog.”  
  
         She gave the cat some more pats, then she set him on the ground and stood up. From her room, she got the clothes she wanted to wear that day and went to the bathroom.  
         On her way, she heard Jamie talking to Bismarck. For a moment she was tempted to open the door of the kitchen. But she decided against it. She just smiled and shook her head slightly. This man could be so funny. Frank, on the other hand … had never behaved like that. Apart from the fact that he considered a pet completely superfluous, he would have dismissed such behavior as childish. Everything had always to be serious and appropriate to his position as a professor. Once again she realized how poor her life had been at his side. How fitting this expression was: _by his side!_ Not for a one day had she been the center of his life, not for a single moment. She had already realized this a few months after the wedding. She didn’t know how many years she wavered between a resigned “It’s all too late anyway!” and the silent hope for change. But in Frank Wolverton Randall’s life, there was only room for one center: Frank Wolverton Randall. And yes, it was a poor life. Not only because Frank never gave her the place in his life that she should have had naturally as a wife, lover, confidante. No, her life at Frank’s side was a poor life because it was a life without real joy. All those years of hope had proven nothing but an illusion. This illusion had ended only when Frank Randall was lying at the bottom of the stairs at his villa - in a pool of blood, struggling for his life. It was that moment the burden left her.  
         James Fraser, on the other hand, knew how to combine professionalism with humor. His title and his specialist knowledge were nothing that he carried before him like a trophy. They were natural parts of his life. They were neither less important nor more important than others. They were simply parts of it - like his love of good food. Like his great passion for all kinds of books, science, and knowledge. Like the joy with which he explored all things nature. And like the humorous handling of pets.  
         The lawyer who had become her lover, too, was able to dedicate himself to his work with determination and even doggedness. If needed for hours, days, weeks and months. She had observed while he prepared her for the trial. He pursued his goals with perseverance and was prepared to even accept a personal loss to achieve them. He was disciplined and he could be incredibly stubborn, always with his goal in mind. And yet: When a goal was reached, he was able to switch off. He did not keep his mind on the job all the time, neither in what he did nor in what he had to do in the future.  
         Jamie was able to refrain from his work and turn to other things. He used his spare time to enjoy the beautiful things of life. His life was marked by vitality and diversity. And yet it was a “unity”, as Claire had rarely observed in the life of other people.  
         As she stood in the shower, letting the warm water flow over her body, she thought of Frank again. His life had been very one-sided. She didn’t doubt that Frank really enjoyed his research and work. But it was - besides everything else - also this one-sidedness, which developed into monotony and which had sucked the joy out of their life. Unlike Frank, Jamie seemed to live a life full of vitality. But maybe …. maybe she was wrong? He was at least fifteen years older than her. Maybe people just got calmer over the years? Jamie was older than her, only a few years. Did she have to expect that his life took a similar turn like that of Frank? She didn’t want to believe it. But what did she know? What could she say with certainty? It was Jamie’s voice that interrupted her circling thoughts:  
  
         "Claire? Are you still alive? Or did that mass of water flush you through the drain? Do I have to call the plumber to free you? Claire! Darling! Please! Say something!“  
  
         His voice sounded playfully worried and she could not resist a big grin.  
  
         "Do not worry, sweetheart! I’m still here. I will not let you go that fast! ”        
         "Ah! What a relief to hear your voice!“ came his answer through the door.        
         Ten minutes later, Claire stepped out of the bathroom and saw Jamie standing at the open front door. He watched Bismarck playing in front of the house. She looked around and saw that Adso had made himself comfortable in one of the two armchairs that stood in front of the fireplace. He lay curled up next to a pillow with closed eyes. Jamie whistled, then turned to face Claire and smiled at her.          
  
         "You look so beautiful, Sassenach.”  
  
         She looked down at herself.  
  
         "Dark jeans, light shirt, and hiking boots? You find that ‘beautiful’?“ she asked with a mischievous smile.  
  
         Jamie did not answer but spread his arms and she slid against his chest. As she looked at him, he kissed her gently. Then he sniffed her neck.  
  
         "You smell good, Sassenach,” he said with a big smile on his face.            
  
         "My lawyer was so kind as to surprise me with a new perfume. When I got home, I found a small bottle in my bathroom. 'J'adore - Extrait de Parfum’ was written on the little box and if I remember correctly, it came from Dior … “  
  
         "It seems your lawyer …”  
  
         "Is a very attentive man?“  
  
         "He certainly is … too.”  
  
         "But?“  
  
         "No 'but’. It seems, he not only left a bottle of perfume.”  
  
         "What else?“  
  
         "Maybe … also … a … little … message?”  
  
         She looked at him and tenderly brought her hands up to the sides of his face. Her eyes searched his face as if she wanted to take in every little detail. Then he leaned over to kiss her. Claire closed her eyes and opened her lips. She felt his tongue carefully explore her mouth.  
  
         "You taste like coffee with milk,“ she said softly as they parted.  
  
         "You wanted coffee, right?”  
  
         "I did not complain, Dr. Fraser!“ she answered with a smile.  
  
         He pulled her close and rested her head on his chest.  
  
         "I’m so glad and so grateful that you’re here, here with me, Claire,” he said hoarsely.

 

“Frühstückstisch” by [congerdesign](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Ffr%25C3%25BChst%25C3%25BCck-fr%25C3%25BChst%25C3%25BCcken-br%25C3%25B6tchen-3871019%2F&t=YmU4ZTRmZjNlOTJkZGQ3NzhmOTgzZGExZjUwZDZiMzcwNjU3ZmNkZSxtQlBXZFVMTQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184486515635%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-19-geheimer&m=1)  
  


         At that moment, Bismarck, who had walked around in front of the house, began to jump up and down Jamie’s legs.  
  
         "Didn’t you feed our little fur monsters?“ Claire asked with an emphatically reproachful look.  
  
         "Of course! Both got a whole can! You know, their greed knows no bounds. But I think Bismarck is simply driven to get out. I probably shouldn’t have told him 'we’re going out’. He knows exactly what that means. Come, let’s have breakfast!”  
  
         Forty minutes later, the breakfast table was cleared. Adso had been provided with food and fresh water for the day. Exactly at the moment when the cat sat down at his bowl, Jamie sneaked out of the front door and closed it behind him. Then he entered the car, where Claire and Bismarck were waiting. First, they drove towards [Lohme](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FLohme&t=MmNjZTA2NzE4NWJjYzVkNTUwZmNjNGFkNzY5Y2Y0M2MzMjljZjVkNyxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). Ten minutes later, they arrived at the harbor of the small former fishing village. At one of the local stands that sold snacks, Jamie bought fresh rolls with egg and different kinds of fish. Then they drove on until Jamie parked the car again.  
  
         "What’s to see here?“ Claire asked.  
  
         "When you get out, I’ll show it to you,” Jamie said, already a few steps away.  
  
         "Will Bismarck not come with us?“  
  
         "No, we will not stay that long.”  
  
         Claire followed Jamie and when she reached him, he put his left arm around and her and pointed with his right arm to a cliff, which faced the one on which they stood.  
  
         "That’s [Cape Arkona](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FCape_Arkona&t=ZmQxNTFlOGQ1MGRhNzQ5MzgwNDk1MGY1NTA0YWQ5OTNmOWU5MDU2Mixhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1),“ he said, "it’s a 43-meter high cliff on the [Wittow peninsula](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FWittow&t=ZTUyZGYzNzQxZDE3MDk3MzIwZTRhNTYxYTA5M2ZlYzRmMjZhMzUwOSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1), a so-called 'land monument’. At the Cape, there are two lighthouses from the 19th and 20th centuries, a tracking tower from 1927, two military bunkers from GDR times, as well as the Slavic 'Jaromarsburg’. The castle was built in the 9th century and until the 12th century, it was not only used to defend the settlement but also as a central place of worship for the West Slavic tribe of the [Rani](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FRani_%28Slavic_tribe%29&t=ZTVkNjBhNzUyOWViOWRiNjkzNDExYmM1NWNjZTM3YjM2NGUyODc3MSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). It seemed that hey arrived at this place in the course of the great migration of the 7th century. The Rani built their castle at the very tip of the cliff. That way, it was protected on three sides by the cliffs. On the side open to the country, they built a wall which was 25 meters high. Do you see the green hills in front of the gray-brown tower?”  
  
         Claire nodded.  
  
         "When the [Danish King Waldemar I](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FValdemar_I_of_Denmark&t=YjZjYjY5YzE3ZDQwYjZlMzI2ZWQwNjUzZjVjMjUyZWZhOWQxZGE0NCxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1) conquered the castle in 1168, parts of it were destroyed. Today, almost only this grassy wall exists. For in the past centuries, parts of the cliff broke off again and again and plunged into the sea.  Remains of the castle were destroyed and crashed into the depths. Even so, Cape Arkona is still popular and a place worth visiting.”  
  
         Claire looked at him.  
  
         "Is the village we were as old as the settlement over there?“  
  
         "Lohme?”  
  
         "Yes.“  
  
         "It is believed that the entire area was first populated around 5.500 years ago. [The large stone tombs found near Nipmerow near the mountains of Magelow are from that time.](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FDatei%3ALohme-Nipmerow_1829.jpg&t=OWY2NzQwYTAyNTNhMTliZGFjMzVjMDg3OWQwOTEyOGQ0OTNmMTc4Yixhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1) Around Lohme there is also [a group of seven megalith tombs, which could be even older.](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FLancken-Granitz_dolmens&t=M2JjM2NiNzBkNmY1YzYxOTQ0ZWVkZGIzM2ZjNjJkYzMxZGYzN2VlNSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1) Since 1168, the island was under the rule of the Danes. Later, the area became part of the [Duchy of Pomerania](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FDuchy_of_Pomerania&t=ZmU0NjliMWJjOTA2ZjAyYzhlYWEyYTJmMmNjZTFkMmIzM2VmYWI4Zixhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). In 1648, after the [Thirty Years’ War](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FThirty_Years%2527_War&t=Y2E5NzJhOTFkNDUyODc4ODcxOTAyYjUwYTRmMTQ1OTFhN2JlMGU1OSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1) and the [Peace of Westphalia](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FPeace_of_Westphalia&t=YjI1YzEzODJiNTljOWE0MDZhMjcwYWNmZTYwYTBiNGQ3NDFhYmVjMSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1), the place belonged to [Swedish Pomerania](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FSwedish_Pomerania&t=NmNhNjZlMmMyZmVjZmMyN2UzZDM2MjEwNGQwMWYzYTliMzkzZDJkMCxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). It remained that way until the [German Wars of Liberation](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FGerman_Campaign_of_1813&t=YTk3OTZhYWMwOTNjNzVhMmI0MzY1NDhlY2U2MGIzOGNhNDg2ZTMwYSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). In 1815 Lohme became Prussian and henceforth belonged as part of [New-Western Pomerania](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FNew_Western_Pomerania&t=NDkxZDRiYmQ1OTE4OGE5ZDJiODljOTMxYmMxM2NlZDdmMmQwMGIwYSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1) to the Prussian province of [Pomerania](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FPomerania&t=ZTEzN2IwZTI4ZDBhZTk4MTRlMzA2NDcwMTMwOTg5ZjEwNTA5N2Y2ZSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). I don’t know if it is documented when the first humans settled in Lohme. But I remember reading that the [Estate of Ranzow](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FListe_der_Baudenkmale_in_Lohme%23Ranzow&t=ODFiMDJhNTYyNTgyOTJhNmY0MzA2MWI2YWVkYTVlZDBmNGE5ZDQzYSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1), where there is a small castle until today, is mentioned in documents as early as 1314. The estate was owned by some noble families. The family [von Jasmund](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FJasmund_%28Adelsgeschlecht%29&t=MWQ2NDk5MzI4ZjQwODdjOWI0NDYzMTQ1MjRlMTJmNGIzMzM4ZTEzYyxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1), after whom this part of the island and the national park are named. They were the first owners. This noble family originally came from Rügen. They then spread to Pomerania, Mecklenburg-Strelitz, Brandenburg-Prussia, and Denmark. In the late 16th century, the families [von der Osten](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FOsten-Sacken&t=MzliYTM5YWJjODZjMTAzOTU5Y2FhNDFmZTFjMGUwMjc0ZWZhNTdlOSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1) and [von der Lancken](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FLancken_%28Adelsgeschlecht%29&t=YWUzOTQyMDE5NGE5MGQyZjZiYjU4OWEwYWJhMTk3N2RjOWNkMjFiYSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1) became owners of the estate. The von der Osten’s were descendants of an aristocratic family from today’s Lower Saxony. The family von der Lancken was from the island of Rügen, but they originally lived between the towns of Granitz and Mönchsgut. A descendant of this family, [Fritz von Lancken](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFritz_von_der_Lancken&t=MGFmYjkyNDExNTI5YTU2MjAyNmE0MWRlMmY0NzQzZmZlZGI2N2YyMCxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1), was one of ’[the men of the 20th July’](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FList_of_members_of_the_20_July_plot&t=ZmQ2Y2NmZWVmYmZmZjAyNzBlNTZmMzY1Mzg0MTU5ZmM1MTJkMWU2Nixhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1).”  
  
         "A resistance fighter who was involved in the assassination attempt against Hitler in 1944?“  
  
         "Yes. In a house that belonged to him, the explosives used by [Count von Stauffenberg](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FClaus_von_Stauffenberg&t=MzI2OTUxNWZhYzMwZTljNWQ5NmExOWM0YjkzZDkxZGEyYzViYTYyNyxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1) were temporarily stored. He was a staff member of von Stauffenberg’s department. When the assassination failed and the resistance in Berlin was crushed, he was incarcerated and later given the death penalty by the so-called People’s Court. Fritz von Lancken was hanged the same day, 29th September 1944, at the prison in [Plötzensee](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.berlin.de%2Fen%2Fmuseums%2F3109425-3104050-gedenkstaette-ploetzensee.en.html&t=ZTYxOWY5YTU0MzJhZDc3ODllYmE1ZDI2NDdmNGU0ZWYzY2NkNmU4Yyxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1) near Berlin.”  
  
         They were silent for a moment. Then Jamie went on:  
  
         "In the 19th century, the estate belonged to the [von Bötticher](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FBoetticher_%28Adelsgeschlecht%29&t=ODI3YWI3OWUyYjEwZWQwZjlhNDc1NGVjMWU0YTRiZTA4ZjJhYzVjNSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1) family. This noble family originally came from Holstein and Thuringia. They have spread even more than the family von Jasmund. Descendants of them still live in the USA today. In the 20th century, the estate came into the possession of the well-known Prussian family [von Seydlitz](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FSeydlitz_%28Adelsgeschlecht%29&t=ZTJhMTNhYWJhNjE4ODE4MGEyMmFjNDFlNGZmOTkwZmE0ZDYwMDhhNCxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). They belonged to the Silesian ancient nobility and produced no less than six generals.“  
  
         "Six Generals. Is there a reason why you emphasize that?”  
  
         Jamie grinned. Then he whispered conspiratorially:  
  
         "One of my ancestors, Simon Fraser, served under [Anton Friedrich Florian von Seydlitz](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FAnton_Friedrich_Florian_von_Seydlitz&t=MmJmNzhhOWJlMzczMjk2MTQ4ZWQzN2JmNTQ2Zjk2MDA3NjgzNGUzZCxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). That was during the Wars of Liberation. At that time von Seydlitz was the commander of the 2nd West Prussian Infantry Regiment No. 7. Together they fought, among other places, in the battles at Ligny and Belle Alliance. Against that short man from … another island … what was it called? Oh yes, Corsica.“  
  
         Claire let out a soft whistle.  
  
         "I’m impressed, Dr. Fraser. But seriously: My uncle Lambert would be excited to hear all this.”  
  
         "And you? Are not you excited about me?“ he asked, looking at her with a curious look while pulling her close.  
  
         "Surely!” Claire replied and before he could say anything, she pulled his face down to him and kissed him.

 

“Kap Arkona” [by Klugschnacker via Wikimedia Commons](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3APutgarten%2C_Kap_Arkona_%282011-05-21%29_10.JPG&t=NDhmZWUwMmMwNmVlZDcyNGIyNTRhZmE1YTM4OWIzNDM5ZGYwZWM4YyxtQlBXZFVMTQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184486515635%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-19-geheimer&m=1)  
[CC BY-SA 3.0 ([https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0&t=NWJhMTE0ZWEwNDI2NDkxZWZkY2IyNWE2MjMzZGViYzRiMTZmOWIzNixtQlBXZFVMTQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184486515635%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-19-geheimer&m=1))]  
  


         Silently they went back to the car, where Bismarck greeted their return with loud barking. Then they drove towards the [National Park Jasmund](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FJasmund_National_Park&t=YzNjZDAyNjdiZTAzOTU2NDBlZmE4OTExNDM0ZjVjNjQyMDZhZDRiZixhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). The ride didn’t take more than twenty minutes.  
         Three kilometers from the visitor center 'Königsstuhl’ they parked the car in a large parking lot. Jamie pulled a day ticket and freed Bismarck from his travel box. He handed Claire the leash to Claire, got his backpack out of the trunk and they set off.  
         After almost an hour’s walk through a beautiful beech forest and along some small lakes, they reached the [visitor center](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FK%25C3%25B6nigsstuhl_National_Park_Centre&t=MjkxNTU3MmUyMmVlN2JmNzdmNjBiZDM0MmIxMDExNjgzMjVkZjkyYSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). Jamie got the tickets, then they took a short break. Because the weather was extremely good, they decided against visiting the exhibition, which was offered by the visitor center. They first hiked to the[Victoria View](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FK%25C3%25B6nigsstuhl_%28R%25C3%25BCgen%29%23%2Fmedia%2FFile%3AK%25C3%25B6nigsstuhl_und_Viktoria-Sicht.jpg&t=NTFkYjg2Yjk0NTYyYTg4YmFmN2Q5ZWY1NmYwMDA5MzYwMzFkMzhlNSxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1) from where they enjoyed the breathtaking view into the depths of the sea and to the ['king’s seat’](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FK%25C3%25B6nigsstuhl_%28R%25C3%25BCgen%29&t=OTRlNDQwYjczYzFkMzU2MzE0N2FmMjhkODgyNjdhYTNlNDc3NjlhZCxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1), the highest point on the rocky coast. Then they followed the signposts showing the path to the way down to the beach near the ['Kieler Bach’](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FKieler_Bach&t=NjZhZTIzMjE2NGZlNTgzMDZhZTQ5MzYwMmQ1MjY2OWZiNDEzYmM3MCxhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). It took them a little more than an hour to complete the three-kilometer route. There they found the small brook, which fell down the steep coast as a small waterfall. Next to it was a stable staircase made of oak and steel. When they arrived there, they already saw a large part of the white chalk rocks. [The approximately 120-meter long way down on the secured path was more difficult than they had expected. ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.treppenfinder.com%2Ftreppen%2Fdeutschland%2Fmecklenburg-vorpommern%2Fruegen%2Fkieler-bach%2F&t=OTY3ZTNmNTIxZGUyNTE4MzU2NjQ3M2RhNzE5ZjFhNGMyZDg0NmZlMixhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1)Jamie took Bismarck on his left arm and held or supported Claire with his right one. But when they finally arrived at the beach, they were completely compensated [by the sight of the monumental white rocks](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3AR%25C3%25BCgen%2C_Kreidefelsen.JPG&t=N2JjNTMzYjI4MWZkZjQzZTAyYTU3Y2Y4YWI0MzgxYmFjMmQwZjc4Zixhazdwc1J6NA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184496403075%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-19-secret&m=1). Exhausted, they paused at the foot of the stairway before heading off for a walk along the beach.  
        Of course, they could have made a trip by boat. From the sea one could see the entire panorama of the chalk cliffs at once. Jamie had thought of booking such a trip but decided against it. He was not sure if Claire was willing to spend a few hours with a lot of other people on a narrow ship. On the other hand, Jamie knew very well that he preferred to spend time with her alone on a hike.

“Rügen - Kreidefelsen” by [denfran](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fkreidefelsen-k%25C3%25BCste-klippen-meer-3427741%2F&t=YzAzODExNTQ1NjdhZTI3OGNjMDNjZGJiNzU0MmNjYzRjYWVkMjNmOSxtQlBXZFVMTQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184486515635%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-19-geheimer&m=1)  
  


         They walked along the beach for about forty-five minutes, fascinatedly gazing at the cliff of the Königstuhl. From time to time one or the other collected colored stones or shells. On their way, they only met three or four other people.  As Jamie and Claire walked behind Bismarck, who constantly sniffed at new “finds”, they discussed the differences between the White Cliffs of Dover and the Chalk Cliffs of Rügen. When they found an old tree trunk, which had tilted between two large boulders, they decided to take their lunch break.

* * *

**_Thank you for reading. Next time, read “The Murderess from the Grunewald (20): Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (9): Sharing Joy and Sorrow (6b)”_ **

 

 


	20. Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (9): Sharing Joy and Suffering (6b)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie, Claire and Bismarck spend a sunny day at the chalk cliffs of Rügen. But the evening of the day reveals a fear deeply rooted in Claire's soul.

“Kreidefelsen Rügen” / ”Chalk Cliffs of Rügen” by [tlemens](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fkreidefelsen-r%25C3%25BCgen-strand-ostsee-1031891%2F&t=MGZjZWVmOTdmZTc3ZjlmMTY0MWE2ODExNTA5MTExY2FhZjhkYzQ0NixldzJvUEJVRw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185029051860%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-20-geheimer&m=1)

 

**Sunday night, Pentecost 2020, two days after Claire’s release from prison**

The afternoon had passed by in flight. After settling on the old tree trunk, Claire wanted to let Bismarck off the leash. But Jamie held her back.

          “That’s not possible, Claire.”

          “Why not? He does not run away from us here! ”

          “No, but it is forbidden to let dogs run free in a national park or in a nature reserve.”

          “German laws,” she sighed.

          “Yes, German laws,” he sighed mockingly. Both started to laugh loud and heartily. Bismarck, who had been looking back and forth between them during the brief conversation, joined in yapping. Then he tried to jump onto the tree trunk where Claire and Jamie were sitting. But the trunk was round and smooth and so he slipped off again and again. Finally, Claire took pity on him. She picked him up and put him next to her. Meanwhile, Jamie had unpacked two large bottles of water from his backpack. The sandwiches they had bought at the fish market at the port of Lohme followed. Bismarck did not immediately see the rolls, but he smelled them and of course, he was no longer in his place. He jumped down from the trunk on which he eagerly had wanted to sit a few minutes ago. With a look that left no doubt that he had not received a single meal for weeks and was near starvation, he sat down right in front of his master’s feet.

          “The fish on this sandwich is called Bismarck herring,” Jamie said, “but that does not mean it’s your sandwich.”

          He held another sandwich in Claire’s direction and looked at her questioningly. She nodded to him and took it. With the words:        

          “Ok, time to feed the predator!”

          Jamie grabbed the backpack again and got another, but smaller, water bottle out of it. He put a drinking device for animals on it and let Bismarck drink. Then he took a bag of dry dog food from the backpack and put it down in front of the pet. It only took a few moments for Bismarck to finish his meal. Jamie let him drink again, then grabbed his sandwich and began to eat. Bismarck made another attempt to get some of Jamie’s lunch, but one look from his master was enough. The dog trotted back to Claire’s side and lay down at her feet. Maybe this human had a little more compassion for a starving dog and if she did not give him anything voluntarily, maybe some crumbs would accidentally fall to the ground … But nothing happened. When both had eaten the first sandwich and drank again, Jamie took two more sandwiches out of the backpack. Bismarck watched the scene closely. Jamie finished his second sandwich with only some big bites, but none of it had fallen off for him. Claire chewed slower and took longer for the second part of her lunch. As Jamie closed his eyes and stretched out to the sun, she quickly tore off a bit of the sandwich and dropped it right in front of Bismarck’s snout. Only seconds later, the piece of bread - on which to Bismarck’s joy was even left a little butter and a scrap of egg - had disappeared in his long snout.

          “Claire?” Jamie asked in a tone that reminded her of the character of a strict teacher in a 1950s film.

          “Yes, Dr. Fraser?” she asked, putting as much innocence in the tone of her voice as possible.

          Jamie opened his eyes and looked at her:

          “If you secretly feed the dog, then you should stop it from smacking. He reveals himself _and_ you.”

          “Dr. Fraser, do you remember? You are my lawyer, not my prosecutor.”

          He did not answer, but pulled her close and kissed her. Claire took Bismarck and put him back on the log next to her. Then they all reached out to the sun and enjoyed the gentle breeze of the sea.

 

“Hühnergott (adder stone), Fundort: Unterhalb des Königsstuhls,   
Insel [Rügen (found on location underneath the “King’s Seat” at the island of Rügen)”](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fde.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FR%25C3%25BCgen&t=ODI2MzM5Mjg3NWNiY2UwODljZTU1YjdiODMxNjg3YTAwODVkN2JlNSxldzJvUEJVRw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185029051860%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-20-geheimer&m=1)   
by [Charlie1965nrw](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fupload.wikimedia.org%2Fwikipedia%2Fcommons%2F3%2F3c%2FHuehnergott_P1170974.jpg&t=ZjU0Zjk0YTZlYjJjNjk3YThmODNkMGE1NjE0YzVlZDA0YWRiMjg0NixldzJvUEJVRw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185029051860%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-20-geheimer&m=1) at the German language Wikipedia   
[CC BY-SA 3.0 ([https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0&t=YmE0Y2I3MGU4MzkyZmMwMWE0ZGUzZTM3MDNhYjY3NGRjM2ZjNjhiNCxldzJvUEJVRw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185029051860%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-20-geheimer&m=1))]

 

         An hour later they started their way back. As they walked along the beach, Claire collected a number of little things. At first, there were adder stones, then little colorful pebbles. Bismarck, who ran before her, danced around her every time she stopped for a new find. He would have liked to sniff out every part that caught her attention. Claire would have liked to know what the little black guy was thinking in those moments. Most likely, she would never know. But one thing was obvious: Bismarck seemed very sympathetic to her behavior. Maybe he saw in her curiosity and in her “hunting instinct” a small affinity? Each time Claire’s hands were full, Jamie had to turn his back so she could pack her newly found treasures, which included more and more shells, into the backpack. When she came back for the first time with some small stones that looked like amber, he held her back.

 

“Bernstein * Ostseeküste” / “Amber * Baltic Sea” by [mixmax9999](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fbernstein-strand-meer-ostsee-k%25C3%25BCste-3855739%2F&t=MjU1NDhhY2VmZTcyYzJkOTMxNzhiNjAxNDc5OWVkOTAwYjA0MTgwNixldzJvUEJVRw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185029051860%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-20-geheimer&m=1)

 

         "Claire! No! Do not do that! You can not just put _that_ in the backpack!“

         "Why can’t I have this? It’s amber! Or is there a strange German law speaking against it?” she asked startled and slightly annoyed.

         "You can take it with you, of course, but you have to put it in the metal box, which is in the outermost compartment of the backpack.“

         "Why?”

         She looked at him blankly.

         "Because it could also be _[White Phosphorus](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.spiegel.de%2Finternational%2Fgermany%2Fdangers-of-unexploded-wwii-munitions-in-north-and-baltic-seas-a-893113.html&t=NDRlOTAxZWU3ZWFiZmI0YmM5ZDdjYzY2ZWM0MGY4YzI2ZDA0NGRiOCxXdXZQR2FXSA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185033419150%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-20-secret&m=1)_.“

         "White Phosphorus? But this stone is yellowish, almost brownish!”

         "Yes, but when White Phosphorus weathers, it also takes on those colors and then looks a bit like Bernstein.“

          Jamie had put the backpack down and taken a metal box from the outermost pocket. He opened it and held it out to Claire. She put in the brown and yellowish stones she had collected. Once again she looked at him questioningly:

          "I don’t understand. Why should it be here on the beach … ”

          “That has something to do with the last war. On the [island of Usedom](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FUsedom&t=N2VjMzg4MTY2YmIyZGI5NTgzMGZkZTk4YjQyMzU0NDZmY2I2MmE0MSxXdXZQR2FXSA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185033419150%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-20-secret&m=1), two hours by car east of here, during the last war, there was a so-called [‘experimental station of the army’](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FPeenem%25C3%25BCnde_Army_Research_Center&t=ZWZiNTZlNGYyY2M5ZDYxOWY1NzgwY2EyMTY5ZjQwZDcxYzBmZjI1OSxXdXZQR2FXSA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185033419150%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-20-secret&m=1). It belonged to the German Wehrmacht and was under the command of the chief of the rocket department in the Army Weapons Department, a major general named [Walter Dornberger](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FWalter_Dornberger&t=NTI1Mzg1N2U1NGYzNjQwNmVhMTA4NTg1ODZlMTc0NTY0Nzk2ZTNmNixXdXZQR2FXSA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185033419150%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-20-secret&m=1). The technical management was in the hands of [Wernher von Braun](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FWernher_von_Braun&t=NjI0MTBkNmI3NzUxODBiMzc0ODM0YjZmNjJhOTA5Y2FkZGNiOTM3YyxXdXZQR2FXSA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185033419150%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-20-secret&m=1). I’m sure, you have heard of him before. After the war, the Americans resettled him and 120 other German specialists who worked there to the United States. His work and that of the other specialists became the basis for the later US missile and space program.”

          Claire’s eyes widened and Jamie took this as an indication that she was interested in more information.

 

“British Attack Plan for Operation Hydra” Extracts from the account of the raid on Peenemunde on  
 17 - 18 August 1943 by Captain John Searby, the Master Bomber on the raid. (AIR 20/4040)   
Operation Hydra, the raid on Peenemünde. Targets shown are: Experimental station B: Factory workshops   
C: Power plant D: Unidentified machinery E: Experimental facilities F: Sleeping and living quarters   
G: Airfield * by RAF photographer [public domain] via Wikimedia

 

          "In the military complex Peenemünde on Usedom the first functional large rocket with the name ['Aggregat 4’](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FAggregat_%28rocket_family%29%23A4_.28V-2_rocket.29&t=OTM1ZDkyMmI4NjFjMDZkYzQyZGM0Yzg2YTI0NGM1MmJhMTIyMDhiZCxXdXZQR2FXSA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185033419150%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-20-secret&m=1) was developed and tested. After World War I, the [Treaty of Versailles](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FTreaty_of_Versailles&t=YWQxZmVmOTNlMWM0ZThkNTAyMjM5OWQwNmMyOWViNTY1ZTQ1ZTM0NixXdXZQR2FXSA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185033419150%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-20-secret&m=1) forbade Germany the construction of large canons. However, it said nothing about rockets. So they developed and built them. And von Braun succeeded in what no other human had done before. On October 3, 1942, the ballistic missile he developed completed its first successful flight, making it the first man-made object to penetrate into the outer space. That’s why Peenemünde on Usedom is also known as the ‘birthplace of space travel’. The Nazis used the rocket, which they later called V2, as a so-called retaliatory weapon against Great Britain. They bombarded London and targets in southern England. Towards the end of the war, they also attacked Antwerp and Liege. On the night from the 17th to the 18th August 1943, Britain then launched the ['Operation Hydra’](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FOperation_Hydra_%281943%29&t=ODEzMDE2MGRlZjNkYTliZGVhYWNjNmY1MzllNjRiNjAyM2UzNGU5YixXdXZQR2FXSA%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185033419150%2Fthe-murderess-of-the-grunewald-20-secret&m=1). Their air force bombarded Peenemünde with phosphorus bombs. At that time, an estimated 4,000 bombs were dropped. But not all bombs hit their targets ashore during this operation. Many landed in the waters of the Baltic Sea. Since then, they are corroding in the salt water. And in doing so, they release their contents, the dangerous White Phosphorus. But that’s not all. After the end of the war, the Allies also decided that 85 percent of chemical weapons found in Germany should be sunk in the sea. Some time ago I saw an interview with an expert from the explosive ordnance clearance service on television. He said that it is estimated that up to 1.3 million tons of phosphorus-containing munitions are at the bottom of the North Sea and 300,000 tons in the Baltic Sea. As said, these weapons corrode and release their deadly cargo. Like amber, White Phosphorus has a low density. That’s why it is flushed on the coast with the flow like amber. Here it settles down like amber, shells, adder stones or thunderbolts. White Phosphorus is highly toxic. Only 50 mg is enough to poison a human with deadly results. However, it takes a few days for that to take effect. But that is not the only danger emanating from it. Normally, it ignites when it is washed ashore at 20° C and then it burns off easily. However, if you accidentally collect White Phosphorus at lower temperatures or if it has just been washed ashore and you let it dry in the pocket of your jacket, for example, it connects with oxygen and begins to burn at a temperature of 1,300° C. You can only fight these flames with sand or a special fire extinguishers. Water is absolutely useless. The phosphorus in the firebombs was also mixed with natural rubber, creating a sticky, burning mixture that can’t be stripped off. It eats through the clothes into the body and burns the flesh down to the bone. In the past few years, there was a growing number of reports that people found old White Phosphorus during walks on the beach instead of amber. They then put the pieces in a jacket or a trouser pocket. But instead of bringing their finds home, they caught fire. Fortunately, some went without injuries. But others suffered severe burns. That’s why it makes sense to transport stones that look like amber in a closed container, preferably made of metal. If necessary, you can also throw it away.“

          "How do you know all that?”

          “Well, I’ve read a few books about the Baltic Sea and its islands. On the other hand, I told you that I’m a junkie when it comes to documentaries.”

          Claire nodded. They had already talked about Jamie’s interest in TV documentaries during their car ride to Rügen.

          “Today we have,” Jamie looked at his smartphone, “18° C. That’s not very cold, but it’s still safer if we transport the stones in the metal box.”

        He opened the box he had taken from his backpack again and held it out to Claire. She nodded and let some more stones she had collected while they were walking and talking slip into it.

 

“Rügen - Muscheln” / “Rügen - Shells”  by [Zteven](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fstrand-muscheln-sand-meer-r%25C3%25BCgen-1770704%2F&t=ZTMzODQ1MGEwY2I1ZmQ0YzFlNDVjYmE5OTgyOTUxYTk4OGVhNGNjOCxldzJvUEJVRw%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185029051860%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-20-geheimer&m=1)

 

          Then they continued on their way and arrived shortly afterward at the stairs at the 'Kieler Bach’. After a short break, emptying their drinking bottles, they began the ascent. When they got back up on the mainland, they hiked to the bus stop 'Welterbeforum’, drove one stop on the bus, and then got on the bus that took them to the parking lot where they had parked their car.

          “Well,” Jamie asked when they sat down, “do we want to go to dinner somewhere or do you want to go home?”

          Claire stretched.

          “The day was beautiful, Jamie,” she pulled him close and kissed him on the cheek. “But I’m exhausted. Let’s go back. Or don’t we have anything to eat at home?”

          “Sure,” he replied as he started the engine and slowly drove off the parking lot, “lots of food. The whole freezer and the fridge are full.”

          Fifteen minutes later, they reached their holiday home. Jamie let Claire in first and then he released Bismarck from the transport box. When Claire entered the house, Adso, who had obviously missed her, ran to her meowing. Bismarck, who ran into the house shortly thereafter, was probably not so much missed by Adso. Because he was first touched with the cat’s claws and backed away. Claire went to the bathroom to freshen up. When she returned to the living room sometime later, Jamie had already ignited the fire in the fireplace. On the coffee table, some candles were burning, giving a warm glow. Next to them stood a jug of fresh tea and two cups.

          “Come here, sit down and rest a little,” Jamie said. He came out of the kitchen and had a bowl of biscuits in his hand. Claire poured tea into the cups and handed one to Jamie. She drank and then grabbed some biscuits.

          “Are you very hungry?” he asked after she had finished the third biscuit and poured tea in his and her cup again.

          “Not so much,” she replied and her answer was accompanied by a hearty yawn. Slowly, she let herself glide from the vertical to the horizontal and thus to the comfortable couch. Adso, who had already left his sleeping place on the windowsill a few minutes earlier and had sat down next to the coffee table, watched her attentively.

          “What would do you say,” Jamie asked, “if I let you rest a little while I’m taking care of our dinner?”

          “I would say that’s a very good idea, Dr. Fraser. But …”

        "But?“

        "But I feel a little guilty. All the time you do something for me and I just lay here lazy …”

        "Claire,“ he said softly as he gently stroked her hair, "you have gone through six exhausting months …”

        "Says the man who worked for me six months around the clock,“ she answered, rolling her eyes.

        "That was my job and I got paid for it.”

        "Ok, Dr. Fraser. The victory in the case of 'Fraser against the conscience of Claire Beauchamp’ goes to you as well. I’m just too exhausted to engage in a legal discussion.“

        "Good,” he said with a smile. Then he got up, covered Claire with a light blanket, and headed for the kitchen. He passed Bismarck lying on his large beige dog cushion. The animal had its legs stretched out and snored audibly. Jamie smiled. The little greedy fur monster was too exhausted to follow him into the kitchen. As he quietly closed the kitchen door, Adso crept out from under the coffee table and sprang onto the sofa, slipping under the blanket at Claire’s feet.

        An hour later, Claire woke up. On the way to the bathroom, she saw that the dining table was already set. As she passed the kitchen door, she heard Jamie hum. She could not tell what song it was. As always, he hummed completely free of all musicality. But in her mind’s eye, she could see him smiling, and once again she wondered how this man had saved himself such humor tough the many battles that his professional life had brought upon him as she had observed first hand. 

         One hour later, minestrone and lasagna were eaten, the table cleared and the dishes stored in the dishwasher. Claire had taken a shower while Jamie and Bismarck went for a little evening walk. Afterwards, she had put herself in pajamas and dressing gown in front of the fireplace. Adso, who had been waiting for his chance, was walking slowly towards her and then lay down on the floor right in front of Claire. The request: “Pat me!” was obvious. When Jamie, also in pajamas and dressing gown, came out of the bathroom, Claire didn’t look at him. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her. As he tried to brush a strand of her hair behind the ear, he saw it: A trickle of tears made its way down her cheeks.  
  
         “Claire, mo chridhe,” he asked concerned, “what has happened?”

         She looked at him, her eyes red and full of tears, unable to say a word. So he took her in his arms and rocked her softly at his chest.  Later, he would not be able to say how long he had held her in his arms, stroked gently over her back and hair, whispering reassuring words in Gaelic. But it seemed to him like a little eternity. When she broke away from him and looked at him, she tried to say something, but she could only sob and again a stream of hot tears poured down her face. Carefully, Jamie dried her face with the hem of his dressing gown. Bismarck had come running when Claire started to cry. He had looked at her with wide eyes and then carefully teased her knee with his long nose. When she saw him, she started to sob again. Jamie looked at the dog and then pointed it back to his dog pillow with one hand. The animal went away but lay down on the big cushions so that he could keep an eye on what was happening in front of the fireplace. Jamie had noticed that the little body was tense. Bismarck would immediately be ready to jump up and run back to Claire to console or defend her. But as much as the dog’s reaction pleased him, now it was time to focus solely on Claire. When she looked at him again, she seemed to have calmed down a bit.

         "Jamie,“ she began, her voice still uncertain, "it was such a wonderful day. I enjoyed every minute, every moment with you. But tomorrow we have to go back and … I’m scared … afraid that this is just a nice dream that will burst like a bubble when we get back to Berlin.”

          Before he could answer, she went on:

          “And I’m scared … I’m scared that I am not good for you …”

          “What? Who says you are not good enough for me?” he asked in surprise.

          “No, I said I’m afraid that I will not do you good. My whole life is like that … so dysfunctional, so out of order, so in confusion … your life … is just the contrary …”

          Jamie laughed out loud and Claire looked at him in surprise.

          “Oh, Claire, my life has not always been so and even now not all is in order.”

          He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment.

          “I think it’s time I tell you more about me. But not now. We will do that tomorrow. Now we go to bed and rest. Only one thing I’ll tell you: If you don’t want to go home, that’s no problem. I emailed Tessa and asked if we could have the house for the rest of the week, and she said it was okay.”

          Claire’s eyes widened and a little smile became recognizable on her face. Jamie kissed her on her forehead. Then he turned to the coffee table and blew out the candles. Claire had gotten up, but before she knew it, Jamie had taken her into his arms and carried her to the first floor. Bismarck and Adso followed.

* * *

**_Thank you for reading. Next time, read “The Murderess from the Grunewald (21): Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (10): Sharing Joy and Sorrow (6c) - Jamie's story I”_ **

 

 


	21. Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (10): Sharing Joy and Suffering (6c) - Jamie’s story (I)

  

Hunting Lodge Granitz / Island of Rügen / North Germany by [Klugschnacker](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3AJagdschloss_Granitz_%282011-05-21%29_14.JPG&t=NjdmYmJjMmRmOWEzYjk4MDY4MjllOWFkM2YzZTFmNWFlNWRjYjFlNSxTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1)   
[CC BY SA 3.0 ([https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0&t=MGVhY2MxNGVlNjcyMjljN2Y2NTVjM2FmMzFiYzcxZTg3ZDI3ZjA4ZixTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1))]

 

**Monday, Pentecost Weekend 2020, three days after Claire's release from prison  
  
**

When they left Berlin two days ago, neither Jamie nor Claire had imagined that this weekend would have had the potential to change their lives.  
           That morning Jamie had awakened her again in his rude but friendly way. While Claire showered and prepared for the day, he had already set the table and prepared the breakfast. When she came into the kitchen, he was standing at the sink with his back to her. Out of nowhere, she felt the urge to feel his closeness and his warmth. Moments later, she embraced his body and leaned her head against his back. To her delight, he did not turn around immediately but stood there for some quiet moments.  
  
           "Good morning, mo ghraid," he said softly and in his voice, she could hear the smile. that must have been visible over all his face. After a moment, he cautiously turned to her and hugged her as she rested her head against his chest.  
  
           "Well?" He asked softly. "Are you ready to face the adventures of this day?"  
  
           She looked at him, then yawned at length. He smiled with his nose curling in that unique way Claire had never seen it with anyone else.

           "If the first adventure is a strong coffee and a good breakfast, then Dr. Fraser, my answer is: Aye, sir!"  
  
           Jamie grinned again and his nose rippled again. He kissed her on her forehead and said:  
  
           "Then let us have breakfast!"  
         
           Ninety minutes later, Claire packed the sandwiches she'd prepared after breakfast into a cooler. She also added two apples and a bag of nuts. The little black-haired dachshund, who always speculated that something was falling from the table for him, looked up at her expectantly. But this time his hopes were not fulfilled.  
  
           "Bismarck," Claire said, looking at him, "you just got a whole bowl of food. That's enough for now."  
  
           Just as she spoke the last words, she realized how nonsensical this had to sound in the ears of the dog. When was one portion of food ever sufficient for a dachshund? The little guy's stomach seemed to have the ability to expand to unimaginable sizes. She had to think of a verse from the well-known poem “Die Zufriedenheit” ("Contentedness") by the German poet Johann Martin Miller:  
  
           "The more he has, the more he wants, his complaints never remain silent."

           But before she could turn back to Bismarck, Jamie approached her:  
  
           "Are you ready, Claire? The animals are fed, the kitchen and dining room cleaned up ... "

           "Yes, our food is packed too. Do you have water bottles ... "  
  
           "Already in the car."  
  
           "Good, I'm ready too!"  
  
           Jamie had bent down and leashed Bismarck. Claire took it and handed him the cooler. She looked again into the living area, where Adso, as usual, had made himself comfortable on a sunny window sill. Then she went with Bismarck to the car and waited for Jamie, who locked the front door. Only a few moments later Bismarck was stowed in his transport box. Slowly Jamie steered the car from the parking lot in front of the house in the direction of the road.  
          During breakfast, they had roughly discussed the plans for the day. A tour to the hunting lodge of Granitz was the first destination on their list. But before they could visit the castle, they had to _park_ Bismarck in a dog boardinghouse for a few hours. Dogs were not allowed to enter the castle and they did not want to leave the animal alone in the car for several hours. To Claire's delight, Jamie had chosen the route along the national park and the coast for their tour to Granitz. As the day before, they first went to Lohme and then in the direction of the Jasmund national park, then turned off in the direction of Sassnitz. After they went through Lancken and Dübnitz, they came closer to the coast every minute. They drove along Prora and turned off towards Bergen halfway along the building complex. Via Thesenvitz and Patzig they reached the town of Kartzitz and shortly thereafter the dog boardinghouse, which was very close to a small forest.  
          Jamie parked the car and got out. He felt a little queasy when he took the transport box with Bismarck. It was the first time he had to give away the animal for a few hours to a dog boarding house and thus to the care of people who were complete strangers. Bismarck was used to Tessa Lüttgenjohann, Ned Gowan or the Schaller couple as his ‘babysitters’. But how would he react, if he had to remain not only in a completely foreign environment but also with people who were not known to him? In Jamie, the thought rose that this experience probably resembled those of parents who left their children in kindergarten or at school for the first time. Suddenly, Jamie felt Claire's hand gently stroking his back. He had not noticed that he was still standing at the car.  
  
          "He'll be fine, Jamie. Bismarck is strong and it's only for a few hours," she said in a calm voice as she put an arm around him and gently squeezed him.  
  
          "Yes, he will."  
  
          He breathed deeply again, then he walked with the transport box in the direction of the entrance. Claire followed him.  
  
          Bismarck's accommodation turned out to be a lot simpler than Jamie had thought. At the reception, they were greeted by a staff member and completed the formalities. Then they went to a large fenced grass pitch, where already several small dogs romped around. Jamie noticed how excited Bismarck was when he heard all the other dogs yapping. After the front door of the grass field closed behind them, he put the box on the ground and took the dog out. At first, he stroked Bismarck extensively, then introduced him to the staff person, a young man named Frederick. Jamie was relieved to see that Bismarck obviously had no fear of contact. Together with Fred, he then brought Bismarck to the other little dogs and watched his dachshund begin to observe them carefully. After a light-brown dachshund came running to Bismarck and sniffed around him, the ice was broken. Now, the other dogs approached the newcomer and shortly thereafter, the animals spread all over the lawn again. Bismarck had followed them, encouraged by Jamie with a few pats. He seemed to enjoy having a little race with a black and white spiked mongrel dog, slightly taller than him. Jamie, Claire, and Frederick took the opportunity to leave the grass field.  
 

 

 

 

 

 

 “Dackel” by [Pipsimv](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fdackel-hund-spielen-ball-braun-361560%2F&t=MzAzMTgyNGVhZmJmOWI2MzM3ZDc4NzNjMmY3ZWYzODFiMzZhZDg3ZCxTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1)  

  
           After handing over Bismarck's food and discussing when they would pick up the dog, Jamie and Claire headed for Bergen and from there via Zirkow to the "Granitz Parking Lot". There they parked the car in the shade of a tree and then took the so-called "Jagdschlossexpress". For a quarter of an hour, the small shuttle drove them through the Granitzer beech grove and stopped in front of the castle. Together they entered the impressive entrance hall, which was completely clad in marble. Then they went to the reception, where they bought the tickets, stowed Jamie's backpack and Claire's bag in a locker, and then waited for the tour to begin.  
           With time, more and more people gathered in the entrance hall, and then a young woman in a blue suit came to greet the visitors and introduced herself as Christina, their guide. Christina told her listeners that          
  
            _"the Granitz, a hilly landscape with gentle hills, sparse forests and the huge cliffs belonged to the[Lords von Putbus](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_Putbus) since 1472. The House von Putbus had been raised to the title of Reichsgrafen [(Imperial Counts)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imperial_Count) in 1727. 'Reichsgraf' was a title awarded directly by the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation, because the territories of these counts were subordinate directly to the Emperor. Already a year earlier, in 1726, [Moritz Ulrich I von Putbus](https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moritz_Ulrich_I.) had built a two-story hunting lodge with two free-standing pavilions in a forest clearing, which he called "Solitüde". In 1730, a two-story [Belvedere](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belvedere_\(structure\)) in half-timbered construction was built nearby, on the highest point of the Granitz, so-called Temple Mount, which is 107 m above sea level. This house was demolished in 1810 and in its place, a new observation tower in the form of a [medieval castellany](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Valleberga_kastal?uselang=de#/media/File:Valleberga_castal1_cropped.jpg) was planned to be built. But this project was not carried out. In 1814, at first, the hunting lodge was modernized in neo-Gothic style. Only later, in the years between 1838 and 1846, after the [Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holy_Roman_Empire) had been disbanded and the Imperial Count of Putbus had been elevated by the Swedish king to the princely state, [Prince Wilhelm Malte I zu und von Putbus](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilhelm_Malte_I) gave the order to build the present castle. He commissioned architect [Johann Gottfried Steinmeyer](https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johann_Gottfried_Steinmeyer) of Berlin with the plans and their execution. As a model for the new building, the style of those castles, which were created during the Renaissance in northern Italy, was chosen. After its completion and for a long time beyond that, the castle became a popular holiday destination for the European aristocracy and other prominent personalities. Among the visitors of the house were the [Prussian King Friedrich Wilhelm IV](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frederick_William_IV_of_Prussia), the [Danish King Christian VIII](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christian_VIII_of_Denmark), the [German Chancellor Otto Prince von Bismarck](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Otto_von_Bismarck), and the historian [Johann Jacob Grümbke](https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johann_Jacob_Gr%C3%BCmbke)."_

  
  

 

 

 

 

 

“Hunting Lodge Granitz - Entrance Hall” * Foto: [Lapplaender](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3AJagdschloss_Granitz_entrance_hall.jpg&t=OTI1YmI5ZmZhZjdlNmMwODdlM2QzZTc5Zjc4ZDAwY2JkM2UyZmQwOSxTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1) via Wiki Media [CC BY-SA 3.0 de ([https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/de/deed.en](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0%2Fde%2Fdeed.en&t=Y2IyOTY3OGM2YWEyN2RiMDAzZTA0MjZiNGM5M2QzZWViOTE4OWExMCxTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1))]

  
     
  
            Christina asked the little group to follow her. While guiding the visitors through the individual rooms, she explained that  
           
             _"the hunting lodge belonged to the family von Putbus until 1944. After[Malte Ludolph Franz Eugen von und zu Putbus](https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malte_zu_Putbus) was imprisoned by the Nazis, the estate was taken over by them too. When the Soviet Army occupied East Germany and the land reform was carried out by the new political leadership of the [GDR](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_Germany) the family had been expropriated. The descendants of the Putbus family filed a suit after the German reunification and demanded their ancestral possessions to be returned to them. But their lawsuit was dismissed and until today the castle is owned by the state. After World War II, many home furnishings were lost or stolen. A number of works of art were brought to Berlin, where they were kept in the 'Storehouse for paintings of the Department for the Administration of Soviet Property in Germany'. In 1953, the objects were then handed over to the GDR State Museums in Berlin. In the years between 1983 and 1990, the castle was extensively restored and the inventory was supplemented in the old style. Between 2011 and 2014, the castle was then renovated again for 7.9 million euros. In this context, the castle also received a new permanent exhibition, which was opened in 2014."_  
  
            After this introduction, Christina pointed out that visitors could now go to the exhibition or the observation tower. As the majority of visitors flocked to the "Stags of the World" exhibit on the first floor, Jamie and Claire opted to ascent the tower. Leading her to the 38-meter high central tower, Jamie whispered:  
  
            "This tower was built according to the plans of the famous Prussian architect [Karl Friedrich Schinkel](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karl_Friedrich_Schinkel). Originally, this was the castle hall. The tower was retrofitted."  


“Hunting Lodge Granitz - staircase” * Foto: [Hajotthu](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fcommons.wikimedia.org%2Fwiki%2FFile%3AGranitz_Schloss_Treppenaufgang%4020161230.jpg&t=ZDJmOTUxMzFiNzM4ZWMyMWQxNmJjZWE4MmVmZmRmMzEwM2I1Mzg2MyxTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1) via Wiki Media Commons [CC BY-SA 3.0 ([http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fcreativecommons.org%2Flicenses%2Fby-sa%2F3.0%2F&t=ZjEzZWJiNzRlNzBmZjk1YjM1NzM4ODdkMmJlNmVlM2ExMWQxMzA1NyxTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1))]

    
           When they arrived at the foot of the cast-iron spiral staircase, whose posts were shaped in the form of an eagle standing on one leg, Jamie whispered:  
  
           "The self-supporting spiral staircase has 154 cast-iron steps. You can imagine how much it weighs. But their static forces are completely absorbed by the sidewalls. It has been 'clamped' into the tower, so to speak."  
  
           Slowly, they began the ascent. Once at the top of the platform, they had a wonderful panoramic view over the island. While they stood by the parapet, Jamie explained to Claire what direction they were facing. For almost fifteen minutes, they enjoyed the view in peace and made some pictures with their phones.  
  
           "The view is wonderful! And the air!"  
  
           Claire took a deep breath.  
  
           "Do you like it?" he asked.            
  
           "Oh yes, very much," she whispered.

 

 

Panoramic view from the tower of the Granitz Hunting Lodge to the city of Binz -  
Foto: [Gerhard Giebener / pixelio.de](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pixelio.de%2Fmedia%2F583411&t=ZDY4Y2MyOWVhYmYzNGI0YWM4NjY3YWI5ZmUxNDUxODIwNWJkODQwMixTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1)

  
           They walked on for two more stops, and when they finished the walk, he put his arms around her, pulled her close, and kissed her passionately.  
  
            "Dr. Fraser!" she said with mock indignation, "we are in public!”  
  
            "Does it worry you? Nobody knows us here!" he whispered to her with a mischievous smile.  
  
            "I thought you brought me here for the wonderful view. And now I have to say that you just wanted to seduce me!"  
  
            Jamie met her eyes. Then he whispered:  
           
            "Do you really know me so little, Claire?"  
  
            She held his gaze and was silent for a moment. Then she said:  
  
            "I love you, Jamie."  
  
            He knew she was telling the truth.  
  
            Slowly she let her long, fine fingers slide over his cheeks. Then she kissed him gently.  
  
            "I love you too, Claire," he said as they parted.  
  
            "I know, Jamie," she replied, adding, "I just hope that ... that I do not ..."  
  
            She lowered her eyes.  
  
            "Claire, look at me," he said, gently pressing her chin up with one hand.  
  
            "Do not doubt. It will be alright. We'll make it, together."  
  
            She only nodded. Then they heard footsteps on the iron staircase and a few more visitors stepped onto the viewing platform. Slowly they went to the exit and descended to the other floors after some more visitors had arrived.

 

Wendeltreppe im Schloss Granitz by [susanne906  
](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fgel%25C3%25A4nder-haus-geb%25C3%25A4ude-treppe-3981974%2F&t=ZTE1NjE2NmU4ZGY5MTgyNDMyOGJmMTVhNmUyODhmYTliY2UzOGEzYyxTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1) 

           There they visited the Marble Hall, the Knight's Hall, and various other exhibition rooms. After they had both made a detour to the toilet, they left the castle and strolled to the nearby inn, the "Old Distillery". They decided to keep their sandwiches for the afternoon. After examining the menu, they choose a wild garlic soup as an appetizer, a venison burger with goat cheese, mushrooms, and cranberries for the main course and some wine. Ninety minutes later they went to visit the Granitzhaus, which also belongs to the castle. In the former forestry, and guest house, which now houses the information center for the [Biosphere Reserve Southeast Rügen](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Southeast_R%C3%BCgen_Biosphere_Reserve), they visited an exhibition that acquaints the guests of the island with the various landscape and coastal forms of the coastal area of Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania. Standing before some pictures, Jamie pointed out how much land and sea were interlinked in this region. When they stood in front of a map, he whispered:  
  
            "Do you see how the peninsulas and coasts are connected by a narrow strip of land, but separated from each other by the salt-marsh? There are fine sandy, wide sandy beaches, and there are rugged cliffs. At the foot of the cliffs, so-called block beaches have emerged."  


 [“The Granitzhaus”](https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Granitzhaus) \- Foto: [Derzno](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Binz_2012_09_05.jpg) via Wiki Media Commons  
[CC BY 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)]  

           Claire nodded but remained silent for most of the time. Jamie knew that her silence had nothing to do with disinterest. On the contrary. In all the time he had known her, he had observed again and again that she was especially attentive in such moments. It seemed as if she was concentrating on what was in front of her to gather as much information as possible.

           At 3:00 pm they found themselves at the shuttle bus stop and less than twenty minutes later they stopped at the parking lot where they boarded their car. After a little over an hour's drive, they reached the dog boardinghouse. Bismarck's joy knew no bounds when he saw _his humans_  again. According to Fred, the little guy had behaved well and was always welcome again as a guest. However, when Jamie wanted to put the dachshund in the transport box, Bismarck refused to enter it. He pushed his little dachshund feet powerfully against both sides of the entrance and Jamie was unable to get him into it. Neither by persuasion nor by light nudges, treats, or gentle threats. He looked at Claire for help. She just opened her arms.

           "Come on, I'll take him on my lap during the ride and hold him."

           "You would do that?" Jamie asked, astonished.

           "Sure, why not?" Claire asked just as astonished.

           "I thought ... oh ... does not matter. Thank you!"

           He gave her the dog and Bismarck seemed to be comfortable in Claire's arms. Jamie opened the car door and let her in. As he drove the car back onto the road, he stole several glances at Claire and Bismarck. She had put a blanket on her lap so that the dog would not be troubled by the hard plastic reinforcements of the seat belt. Bismarck had pulled the blanket with his teeth and so shaped it into a round nest, as he always did when given a blanket or cloth to sleep on. After a few minutes, he had calmed down and seemed to sleep, surrounded by Claire's arms. But Jamie knew only too well that it only seemed that way. As long as they were driving, Bismarck would close his eyes and rest at the very most. Only when they would be back in their holiday home would he really start to sleep.

          They passed around the great ["Jasmunder Bodden"](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gro%C3%9Fer_Jasmunder_Bodden), which separates the Jasmund peninsula from the motherland of the island, and arrived half an hour later near the village of Glowe. There they parked the car and shortly thereafter they entered the dog beach, on which already a number of other dog owners were walking and playing with their protégés. After a while, Jamie and Claire found a less crowded place to sit down. They ate their sandwiches and emptied their water bottles. Bismarck was also given food and water. Then Jamie took the animal on his lap and fed him dog drops he took from his jacket pocket. While doing so, he stroked Bismarck extensively.

 

“Hund am Strand” by [manfredrichter](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fhunde-strand-sand-spa%25C3%259F-spiel-3880962%2F&t=YWMzMmMxYTM1ZTJjMWMzYWJmNDk1M2YxMDdmMjBmYmNkOGExMjlmYyxTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1)  


          "Well, are you trying to bribe him? Do you think he will voluntarily return to the transport box after a handful of dog drops?"  
  
          "No, Claire. I'm a realist, and I've known Bismarck long enough now to know that he'll behave like a defiant kid for quite a while. He definitely enjoyed being together with the other dogs. But he wants to punish me for leaving him alone. This is his way of saying that I have to make amends. He wants to catch up with the time without me. He always did that, even if I left him with Tessa or Ned. You'll probably have to keep him on your lap for the remainder of our return journey."  
  
          And so Claire went through the same procedure again: spreading the blanket over her lap, putting the dog on it, allowing the dog to build a 'nest' out of the blanket, putting her arms around the hidden little fur monster and holding him until their destination was reached. But to Jamie's joy, she did not seem to care.  
  
          When they returned to their holiday home, they were greeted by Adso, who came to Claire, loudly meowing. Bismarck hardly paid any attention to the cat, but immediately ran to his beige dog cushion and laid down. It did not bother him that _his humans_ scurried around him and he did not react to the cat's advances of playing with him. So Adso followed Claire, who went upstairs. When Jamie turned on the fireplace shortly afterward, he looked again at Bismarck. The animal lay on its back with all four little legs stretched out, snoring loudly.  
          An hour after they returned, Claire came out of the bathroom - freshly showered, in her pajamas and dressing gown. On the coffee table, she found a fresh pot of tea and a bowl of biscuits. Jamie had fed the animals and, after giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, dressed in pajamas and his dressing gown, he held a cake plate with a chocolate-colored cake on it. When he saw Claire's questioning, but enthusiastic expression, he said:  
  
          "I thought, since we already had our dinner on the beach, we could enjoy a little dessert."  
          "Dr. Fraser, your mind is full of good ideas!"  
  
          Apparently, not only Claire but also Adso and Bismarck were of that opinion. Both of them had smelled the cake and now moved cautiously, but determinedly, towards the coffee table. But it only took a wave of his hand and a stern look from Jamie and the dog retreated to his pillow. Claire, however, had to use a little more effort to scare Adso away. The cat grumbled to himself, then ran in the direction of the dog and began to attack it to get rid of his frustration. But Bismarck bristled Adsos attacks brusquely and finally, the cat retired to one of the chairs in the dining area.

 

 

”Tee” by [Imoflow](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fpokal-trinken-lebensmittel-3197936%2F&t=ODRmYzRlNDVjNTk1YmViYjAyYTY4YzgzZjA1YTA1ZTg2YWI2YmJhZSxTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1)

  
  
          "What's that cake?" Claire asked as Jamie put a piece of it on her plate.  
  
          "Italian almond cake. A dream."  
  
          They began to eat - silently enjoying their dessert. When Claire had finished her piece of cake, she sighed.

          "All gone  ..." she said, with heavy grief in her voice.  
  
          "Oh, you can have all the rest of the cake, if you want ..."  
  
          "Well, the whole cake would be a bit too much, but I like to take another piece."  
  
          She held out the cake plate and watched as Jamie put another piece on her plate. Although the mood was resolved, he seemed tense. She had felt that throughout the day again and again. Jamie was relaxed, humorous ... and yet there was a subliminal inner tension. She sensed that the tension was related to the conversation they wanted to have. It did not help to postpone the topic further. It would not help him. It was better to speak straight to the topic. She put her on the table and took his hand.  
  
           "Jamie, this day was beautiful. I have seen and heard so many new things. Thank you so much for making that possible."  
  
           He smiled, looking down at the floor, his head turning slightly red. He wanted to say something, but she grabbed his hand and kissed it.  
  
           "But now I want to hear more from you."  
  
           "Och, Claire, I do not know. These are not all nice things ... "  
  
           She released his hand and covered his head with both hands.  
           
           "Says the man who had to listen to the story of my whole messed up life ..."  
           She kissed him gently.  
  
           "Go on, you're always brave."  
  
           She kissed her again, then released him and turned her back to her cake. Jamie took a deep breath.

 

 

                                                                            “Herrenhaus” by [Funki50](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fpixabay.com%2Fde%2Fphotos%2Fgutshaus-herrenhaus-immobilie-204273%2F&t=OTliYjE2MjRjZGU0NmJlYjRmNzJmOTBkNGM2NzM4ZGM3Zjg0YTQwNCxTc2NZR3lReg%3D%3D&b=t%3ALWrYuKJ7y7qBw1y37At9Pw&p=https%3A%2F%2Funderthewingsofthblackeagle.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185309312455%2Fdie-m%25C3%25B6rderin-aus-dem-grunewald-21-geheimer&m=1)  
  
  
           "You asked about my family," he began softly.  
           
           Claire nodded.  
  
           "I already told you about the deaths of my mother and father, the deaths of my brothers, when we talked in prison. To the rest of my family, well, I ... I have no contact with them at the moment. Except for my brother-in-law, Ian. We communicate via email regularly and he comes to visit me every now and then when he has some business in Berlin. But ... I have not seen ... my sister and the children for almost four years."  
  
           Claire did not miss the grief in Jamie's eyes. She put down her plate again and put her right hand on his left.  
  
           "I think," he said, pausing for a moment, "I should tell you about that first."  
  
           She just nodded silently and squeezed his hand gently.  
  
           "After my mother’s death, my sister Janet, called Jenny by all, took on more and more tasks in our household. All of us, my father, her husband Ian and I have always been very grateful to her. It was a logical solution. Ian ran our estate, Jenny took care of the family and the big household. My dad and I worked in our law firm and lived in our townhouse. On the weekends we drove to Potsdam to spend time with the family on our estate. In this way, our family life maintained a good rhythm and stability even after the death of our mother. Ian got very involved in his work with animals and agriculture. For him, this was and is not just a job, but a kind of calling. And Jenny has been and still is a loving mother to their four children and over the years managed the big household in a truly exemplary way. Sure, she has some hired helpers. An elderly woman helps her in the kitchen and takes care of the children whenever needed. There are also two younger women who take care of the cleaning of the big house and the laundry. Otherwise, that would be impossible. Every now and then, they also have temporary help for additional work. But despite these helpers, she is the one who has to coordinate, guide and, in the end, overseeing everything. As I said, we have always been very grateful ... "  
  
           Jamie reached for his cup and took a sip of tea.          
  
           "However, we - Ian, my father and I - eventually realized how Jenny’s behavior changed. At first, it went very slow. You could say it happened creepingly. She became ... more and more decisive. At first, we thought she just wanted to keep control of all the work .... maybe because she was afraid that she might do something wrong or not good enough. Most of the time we just took it that way ... every now and then we also joked about it. But we endured it ... We did not want to burden her with our criticism in addition to our Mother's death and the many tasks she had taken on."  
  
           Jamie reached for his cup again and took a sip of tea. Taking a deep breath, he went on:   
  
           "Perhaps …"  
  
           His eyes moved to the fireplace.  
  
           "Perhaps what?"  
  
           Claire gently stroked his hand with her thumb.  
  
           "Maybe we should not have been so considerate, maybe it was a false consideration ..."  
  
           He turned his face back to Claire, who looked at him in astonishment.  
  
           "How ... what do you mean?" she asked carefully.  
  
           "Well, her behavior became more and more determinative, more dominant, and in a way more destructive. Maybe we could have stopped that if we had mentioned it earlier. After the death of my father, that behavior even increased. It became unbearable. And above all, her behavior was not just about running the household. She also began to give Ian more and more 'good advice' for working with the animals and the staff. One could get the impression that she was convinced that without her on this estate nothing would go the right way. Well, I did not interfere because I thought that it was a problem that they had to solve as a married couple. At some point, there was a big confrontation between them. Ian later told me that he clearly put the choice before her: Either she focuses on her tasks and lets him do his job in peace or he goes back to Scotland, leaving her and the children. That has probably awakened her. Since then, she leaves him alone and spared him with her uninvited advice.  
           But her dominant drive then sought another way out. She also made me ‘happy’ with her unsolicited advice whenever she and Ian visited me with the children. That was mostly on my birthdays or when they went on trips to Berlin. My father had left a very clear testament: She and Ian inherited the estate with everything that went with it and a certain sum of money. I inherited the law firm and the townhouse and also a sum of money. In addition, my father's interests in a number of companies were very carefully shared between us. As for the value of the heritage, it was shared really fairly. She never complained about that either. But whenever she was in Berlin, in the house that now belonged to me alone ... she could never spare me her criticism or her advice. Once the lawn was not well enough maintained, then again she found that the winter garden was 'overburdened' with plants and urgently had to be 'emptied'. My study was too dark, but the kitchen I had renovated was too bright. And so on and so forth. I dismissed all this as one of her quirks, but I was wrong. It was not enough for her to interfere with my domestic affairs. Her addiction, wanting to manage everything and everyone, went so far that she repeatedly tried to 'make me happy with some women'. 'Coupling' would probably be the more appropriate word for this nonsense. When I forbade her to interfere with my private affairs, she said, that I ‘needed her help, because I clearly would not be able to find a wife and start a family on my own.'

           Jamie, who had become angrier with every word, shook his head. Then he buried his face in both hands. Claire, who had listened to his words with ever-increasing astonishment, wrapped his head in both hands and pulled him close.  
  
           "Jamie, you don’t have to keep talking if it is too much for you," she said softly as she gently stroked his silky locks with one hand.  
  
           He paused for a moment with his head against her chest. Then he raised his head and looked at her.  
  
           "No, Claire, I want to tell you. It is important that you know that. Since the death of our mother, Jenny teased me with the idea that I did not bring a girl home. My goodness! I was young, I did not know what I wanted to do with my life! And why should I start a relationship? Just because ‘everyone does it'? My father kept saying I should not take her words seriously, and as long as my father lived, it was only verbal taunts. But after I returned from France ... "  
  
           "You were in France?" Claire asked in surprise.  
  
           "Yes, I was able to study two semesters in Paris with the [Erasmus program](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erasmus_Programme). I lived at my uncle Jarred’s house, who has a wine business there.  
  
           "And why did Jenny increase her taunts after your stay in Paris?"  
  
           "Well, there was this story with ... _Marie-Catherine_ ..."

* * *

  ** _Thank you for reading. Next time, read “The Murderess from the Grunewald (22): Secret Whitsun Holidays on Rügen (11): Sharing Joy and Sorrow (6d) - Jamie's story II”_**


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